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NEW  YORK 

LAURENCE  J.  GOMME 

1916 


GIFT   OF 


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CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 


BOOKS  BY  JOHN  JAY  CHAPMAN 

Emerson  and  Other  Essays $1.25 

Causes  and  Consequences i .  25 

Practical  Agitation 1.25 

Learning  and  Other  Essays 1.25 

William  Lloyd  Garrison i .  25 

Memories  and  Milestones 1.25 

Notes  on  Religion 75 

Greek  Genius  and  Other  Essays      .     .     .     .     1.75 

The  Maid's  Forgiveness  (a  play) 75 

A  Sausage  from  Bologna  (a  play) 75 

The  Treason  and  Death  of  Benedict  Arnold, 
a  play  for  Greek  Theatre i .  oo 

Neptune's  Isle  and  Other  Plays  for  Children  .     i  .00 

Homeric  Scenes 60 

Four  Plays  for  Children i.oo 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 


By 
JOHN  JAY  CHAPMAN 


NEW  YORK 

LAURENCE  J.  GOMME 

I9l6 


^ju        — 


Copyright  by 
JOHN   JAY    CHAPMAN 

Published  June,  1916 


All  dramatic  and  public  reading  rights  in  these  plays  are  fully  protected  by 
copyright  in  the  United  States  and  Great  Britain.  Application  to  perform 
must  be  made  to  the  Author  in  care  of  Laurence  J.  Gomme,  2  East  agth 
Street,  New  York. 


The  plry  was  first  pc.  fo-rmecl  at  the  fiftieth  an 
niversary  of  the  Yale  Art  School,  June  16-19,  1916, 
under  tl:c  $'i,"cm.-,i»,:i  of  Mr.  William  Sergeant 
Kendall,  Dean  of  the  Art  School,  and  the  manage 
ment  of  Mr.  J.  R.  Crawford. 

Music  by  Horatio  Parker. 


ERRATUM 

IN  THE  CAST 

Cupid — Master  Reggie  Sheffield 

should  read 
Cupid — Master  Kingdon  Brown 


381475 


The  pi.  \  was  first  pr.iormed  at  the  fiftieth  an 
niversary  of  the  Yale  Art  .School,  June  16-19,  1916, 
under  the. -sXi^er-visiun  of'  -Mr.  William  Sergeant 
Kendall,  Dean  of  the  Art  School,  and  the  manage 
ment  of  Mr.  J.  R.  Crawford. 

Music  by  Horatio  Parker. 


381475 


ps 
tec 

Hit? 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CUPID  AND  PSYCHE  i 

LAFAYETTE  55 

ROMULUS  AND  REMUS  69 


CAST 

VENUS — Miss  S.  Whitney. 
CUPID — Master  Reggie  Sheffield. 
PSYCHE — Miss  E.  Kendall. 
KING  AGATHQN — Mr.  Loomis  Havemeyer. 
QUEEN  ARETE — Miss  Walker. 
MERQE — Miss  E.   Carmalt. 
AEON — Mr.  J.  Downes. 
PANTHIA — Mrs.  Leonard  Daggett. 
PODAGRA — Mr.   J.   Peltz. 
FOTIS — Mrs.  C.  Morris. 
ZEPHYR — Miss  G.  Linnell. 
CALCHAS— Mr.  T.  G.  Wright. 
GLOW-WORM — Mr.  L.  W.  Dodd. 
PAN — Mr.  E.  E.  Paramore,  Jr. 
JUPITER — Mr.  F.  Markoe. 
JUNO — Mrs.  E.  B.  Reed. 
MINERVA — Mrs.  H.  S.  Canby. 
MERCURY — Mr.  H.  Vreeland.. 
CERES — Mrs.  M.  Miller. 
HYMEN — Mrs.   Minott  Osborn. 
NYMPHS — Miss  Sanderson,  Miss  Parker,  Miss  Sar 
gent,  Miss  Williams,  Miss  Hotchkiss. 
PRIESTESS — Mrs.  T.  G.  Wright. 

ATTENDANTS,  PAGES,  SATYRS,  etc. 
THE  COURT  OF  LORENZO  THE  MAGNIFICENT,  by 
Ladies   and   Gentlemen  of   New   Haven. 

STAFF   FOR  THE  PRODUCTION 

CHAIRMAN — Mr.  F.  J.  Walls. 

COLOR — Miss  Christine  Herter. 

MISTRESS  OF  THE  WARDROBE — Miss  G.  Linnell. 

PROPERTIES — The  Yale  Art  School. 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS 

VENUS. 

CUPID. 

PSYCHE. 

KING  AGATHON,    father   to   Meroe,    Panthia   and 

Psyche. 

QUEEN  ARETE,  their  mother. 
AEON,  a  decrepit  old  noble. 
MERGE,  wife  of  Aeon. 
PODAGRA,  a  dissipated  young  noble. 
PANTHIA,  wife  of   Podagra. 
FOTIS,  maid  servant  of  Venus. 
ZEPHYR,  maid  servant  in  Cupid's  Palace. 
CALCHAS,  a  soothsayer. 

GLOW-WORM,  THE  HUNCHBACK,  WATCHMAN  IN 
KING  AEON'S  PALACE. 

GOD,  GODDESSES,  NYMPHS,  etc. 

SCENE  :     Caria. 

The  costumes  and  decorations  should  be  Pompeian. 


CUPID   AND   PSYCHE 

ACT  I 

SCENE  I.     VENUS  at  her  toilet. 

VENUS. 

Give  me  the  stick  of  amber  and  the  tongs. 

Fotis,   my  yellow  hair  has  lost  its  sheen. 

Quick,  the  Arabian  drops!     The  ruby's  light 

Dies  on  the  rosy  petal  of  my  lip. 

I'm  old,  my  Fotis,  and  the  clouded  pearls 

Hang  in  my  ears  like  bells  beneath  the  surge 

That  tell  the  rocks  of  time.     O  for  that  day 

When  o'er  the  sea-salt  billows'   dancing  spray 

I  sped  to  Cnidus,  in  my  pearly  wain, 

With  all  of  Nereus'  daughters  in  my  train, 

And  troops  of  Tritons  furrowing  the  main. 

Old  Neptune  with  his  azure-colored  beard 

Guided  the  joyous  chorus  as  he  steered, 

And  ocean's  lackeys  swam  upon  the  swell; 

One  softly  sounding  his  melodious  shell, 

One  with  a  floating  silken  canopy 

Protects  my  infant  freshness  from  the  sky, 

And  one  with  dripping  seaweed  on  his  breast 

Holding  a  mirror  in  his  bronzen  fist, 

And  leaping  like  a  dolphin  through  the  press, 

Shews  new-born  deity  her  loveliness. 

[ FOTIS  hands  a  mirror. 
3 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

VENUS. 

Love-worn  and  cavernous! 

FQTIS. 

Your  brilliancy 
Glows  as  before,  immortal.     'Tis  not  that. 

[FoTlS    kneels    and    places    her    hands    on 

VENUS'  knees,  looking  at  her  intently. 
Madam,  the  liquid  dusk  beneath  the  eye 
Of  some  dark  beauty  shades  your  firmament. 
You're  jealous,  Madam. 

VENUS. 

Where  is  my  boy? 
FOTIS. 

Asleep : 

His  golden  head  is  pillowed  on  the  arm 
That  guards  his  precious  bow;  and  all  the  shafts 
Are  spilled  about  the  crib.     I  fear  to  tread 
The  threshold  of  the  purple  nursery. 

VENUS. 

Fetch  him  this  instant;  I  have  work  for  him. 

FOTIS. 

I'd  liefer  fetch  a  nettle! 

[Goes   to    the  wing  and  calls: 

Master  Cupid,  Sir,  Lord  Cupid ! 

[CuPlD  appears  at  the  other  door  with  the 

sword  of  Mars  in  both  hands  and  his 

bow  and  quiver  slung  on  his  back. 

CUPID. 

Fotis,  you  rat-trap,  I  was  dreaming  of  you.     The 

hunchback  loves  thee! 

FOTIS. 

Ah,  indeed!  who  told  you  that? 
4 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

CUPID. 

Diophanes,  the  Chaldean,  read  it  to  me  out  of  his 
book  of  magic.  Besides,  I  saw  him  kiss  thee  in 
the  scaldatorium 

FOTIS. 

Scaldatorium  yourself,  Master  Cupid ! 

CUPID.    [Recites.] 

Cupid's  coming, — maids,  beware! 
Fold  your  samplers,  smooth  your  hair, 
Peep  in  the  glass,  and  in  your  bosom 
Set  a  twig  of  apple-blossom. 
Hark,  his  step  is  on  the  stair! 
See  his  flame  is  in  the  air! 
Cupid's  coming. 

VENUS. 

Very  charming,  you  pink  rascal!  My  rosy  chub- 
face  !  Throw  down  that  sword  and  kiss  me.  Your 
eyes  are  dreaming  still, — Kitten ! 

CUPID. 

Kittens  have  claws 

[To  FOTIS. 

Get  me  a  cream-puff  on  a  plantain  leaf,  for  break 
fast;  and  rose-petals  with  the  dew  on  them.  Shake 
them  not,  you  cattermole!  Bring  them  standing. 

Exit  FOTIS 
VENUS. 
Ah,  angel,  embrace  me. 

CUPID. 

Let   me   finish    first — One   word   more   for   young 
ladies. 

[Recites. 

Cupid  shot  a  bolt  and  fled 
Ere  the  maid  could  turn  her  head 
5 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

Or   her  swimming  eyes   could   see 
What  had  done  her  injury. 

(Maids,  to  you,  to  you!) 
While   she   knew   not   that   she   bled 
Her  dainty  kerchief  streaked  with  red 

Showed  his  aim  was  true. 

VENUS. 

While  love  lives  all  is  left  us.  Throw  your  young 
arms  round  Mother's  neck — [he  embraces  her]  My 
fiery-headed  wonder.  [Screams.]  Ah,  Mars!  He's 
pricked  me!  Off,  you  heartless  bee!  To  sting 
Mamma ! 


CUPID. 

In  Venus'  blood  are  Cupid's  arrows  dipt 
And  from  her  eyes  the  dewy  poison  dript. 

VENUS. 

My  golden  joy!     Come,  wilt  thou  serve  me — wilt 

thou  errand  me? 

CUPID. 
Perhaps 


VENUS. 

Wilt  thou  plant  a  shaft  in  one  cold  virgin's  breast 
for  me? 

CUPID. 
Perhaps 

VENUS. 

Her  name  is  Psyche,  and  her  mind  a  state 
Rebellious  to  my  rule, — she  will  not  wed. 
6 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

In  loveliness  she  is  mine  enemy; 

And,  in  the  growing  godhead  of  her  scorn 

For  love's  religion,  she  endangers  mine. 

"A  Virgin  Venus!     Psyche,  the  new  Saint!" 

The  people  cry;  and  build  her  painted  shrines; 

And  all  Ionia  flocks  to  the  new  rites 

And  sets  her  image  in  its  atria. 

My  statues  are  defaced,  my  cushioned  seats 

Are  trampled  with  the  rabble's  miry  feet, 

They  call  me — horrid  names. 

CUPID.     [Mocking.] 
'Tis  very  sad. 

VENUS. 

I,  the  great  mother  of  the  Universe, 
To  be  thus  flouted  for  a  chilly  maid 
Cold  as  a  moonbeam! 

CUPID. 

Ay,   'tis  sad,   Mother — It  would  mean, — it   might 
mean, — the  end  of  the  earth. 

[He  takes  a  golden  apple  from  a  table  and 

hands   it   to    her. 
VENUS. 
What's  that? 

CUPID. 

The  apple  Paris  gave  you  on  Mount  Ida. 

VENUS. 

Wilt  thou  then  destroy  her? 

CUPID. 

Juno  might  help 

7 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

VENUS. 

Take  this  arrow,  sir, 

The   sharpest   in  love's  quiver.      Drive   it  home 

Into  her  icy  bosom.     Let  her  pant 

With  love  for  some  vile  monster  of  the  field, 

A  half-thing  centaur,  or  some  child  of  Pan 

With  goat's  legs, — and  a  black  shaggy  beard 

Like  bushes  on   Parnassus. 


CUPID. 

Mother,  you  have  a  happy  disposition, 

You  love  this  girl. 

VENUS. 

Apollo's  oracle 
Has  promised  me  his  aid. 


CUPID. 

So  have  not  I !     Yet,  mother  mine, 

More  things  occur  by  hap  than  by  design. 

[Kisses  her  on  the  forehead. 
Enter    FOTIS 


FOTIS. 

Your  lordship's  breakfast. 


CUPID. 

Minx!     Set  it  down. 

[ FOTIS  shows  a  disposition  not  to  approach 
CUPID  too  closely.  She  sets  a  small  tray 
of  fruit  and  flowers  on  a  little  trian 
gular  table.  CUPID  sits,  rests  his  quiver 
on  his  chair  s  edge. 
8 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

Get  me  my  turquoise  cup,  the  robin's  egg, 
And  fill  it  with  nectar. 

[Threatens  FOTIS  with  an  arrow  which  he 

grasps  by  the  middle  in  his  closed  fist. 
O  you  jades,  you  jades! 

[VENUS   looks  at  him  with  doting  adora 
tion. 

Exit  FO.TIS 


CURTAIN 


ACT  I 

SCENE  II.  A  remote  valley  amid  mountain  tops. 
In  the  left  centre  towards  the  back,  a  tomb. 
Enter  a  funeral  procession  bearing  torches. 
KING  AGATHON,  QUEEN  ARETE,  PSYCHE, 
AEON  and  MERGE,  PODAGRA  and  PANTHIA, 
CALCHAS,  the  soothsayer,  other  lords  and  at 
tendants.  The.  ti?ne  is  sunset. 

KING. 

My  lords,  to  tell  the  business  of  our  state 

My  voice  scarce  breaks  its  way. 

[To  an  attendant 
Stand  by  the  Queen! 

Our  youngest  daughter,  Psyche,  from  her  birth 
Walked  in  the  half-light  of  some  influence 
That  shook  our  realm  with  new  divinity. 
Yea,  from  afar  came  pilgrims  to  her  shrine 
While  she,  a  sweet  and  quiet  child,  grew  up — 
That  all  who  saw  her  loved  her  for  herself; 
I  most, — who  now  expose  her  to  the  sky. 
For  now, — a  mystery: — Her  sisters  twain 
Were  early  matched  in  royal  marriages. 
But  she  rejected  Hymen.     In  her  band 
Of  worshippers  were  lovers   not  a   few. 
But  she  rebuked  them,  glancing  up  to  heaven 
In  seeming  dedication  to  some  god. 
Feared  by  this  portent,  to  the  oracle 
I  sent  the  deepest  wizard  of  my  realm; 
Who  from  Apollo's  lip  took  down  the  doom. 

10 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

Calchas,  by  your  allegiance  to  the  god, 

And  by  the  trembling  horrors  of  the  night, 

I  charge  thee  speak  the  truth. 

CALCHAS. 

It  is  a  message  from  the  god  to   thee 

Which  from  my  waxen  tablet  I  will  read. 

[Reads. 

Thus  commands  the  God  of  Day 
Strive  not:  question  not:  obey. 

Let  a  funeral  be  dressed, 
Be  all  the  pomp  of  Death  expressed. 
In   the  distant  mountain  shade 
Where  the  crags  of  amethyst 
Rear  their  purple  palisade 
O'er  the   dreamy  river-mist; 
Let  the  smoky  torches  stand 
Where  the  mystic  child  is  laid. 
For  the  bridegroom  is  at  hand, 
And  a  snake  doth  claim  the  maid. 
Leave  her  on  the  mountain  side, 
Psyche  is  the  serpent's  bride. 

Genius  of  all  space  and  time, 
He  doth  creep  and  fly  and  climb 
With  his  claws  and  with  his  wings; 
In  the  ether,  in  the  slime, 
In  the  oak  and  in  the  willow, 
Coiling  by  the  peasant's  pillow, 
Sleeping  in  the  heart  of  kings. 
Zeus  himself  hath  known  the  pang 
And  the  poison  in  his  fang; 
And  the  Stygian  billows  shrink 
When  they  feel  him  on  the  brink: 
Livid,  brutish   and  sublime, 
He  the  holy  maid  hath  spied. 
Psyche  is  the  serpent's  bride. 
II 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

Thus  commands  the  God  of  Day 
Strive  not:  question  not:  obey. 

KING. 

Sayst  thou  a  dragon  must  possess  my  child  ? 
Lives  not  some  kinder  meaning  in  the  doom? 
The  gods  are  jugglers,  and  their  blest  intent 
Is  oft  expressed  in  seeming  cruelty. 

CALCHAS, 

Not  here,  not  here,  my  lord !    The  Fane  of  Hymen, 

Which  for  three  years  with  ivy  was  o'ergrown, 

Hath  burst  its  portal  ope,  and  Venus'  doves, 

That  late  were  sickly,  coo  vociferously, 

And  preen  themselves  at  cockcrow.    All  is  well. 

KING. 

Daughters,  what  say  ye?     Meroe,  speak  thou. 

MERGE. 

Good  sir,  I  ever  hold  the  married  life 

Is  woman's  duty.    When  my  Aeon  sued 

I,  at  your  bidding,  seized  him  as  a  man. 

He  is  not  young,  but  good;  I  sought  no  saint 

Nor  waited  for  a  god. 

AEON.     [Kissing  his  hand  to  her  gallantlyJ] 
Thank  you,  my  love. 

MERGE. 

This  peevish  child 

Has  drawn  some  ambient  serpent  from  the  sky 
Through  her  nun's  watching. 

[To  PSYCHE. 
Sister,  see  you  now, 

How  often  have  I  warned  you  to  be  kind ! 
When  Lycidas  would  strum  upon  his  lute 
Not    she!      When    Phaedo    brought    his    hunting- 
dogs — 

12 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

Tears  in  his  eyes  to  get  a  word  from  her, — 

Not  Psyche!    With  a  glance  of  reverence 

She  swept  him  from  her  path. 

What  can  we  do? 

A  black  miasma  hangs  o'er  every  land 

When  maidens  will  not  wed.    Had  mother,  now 

KING. 

Enough,  enough.     Thy  mind  is  personal 
And  hurts  my  sorrow.    Panthia,  speak  thou. 
Thou  art  a  sorceress  and  should'st  be  wise. 

PANTHIA. 

My  answer  is  my  husband.     Lo,  the  man! 

Ill,  crabbed,  ugly,  walking  with  a  cane 

Whose  knob  of  gold  proclaims  his  excellence. 

Crowned  with  a  Lydian  title,  old  as  Thebes, 

And  crusted  with  heroic  ancestry 

Till  scarce  you  see  his  eyes.     A  husband,  sir, 

My  husband  is  my  answer. 

PODAGRA. 

Bravo,   Panthia! 
[He    taps    his    left    palm    with    the    closed 

fingers  of  his  right   hand.] 
Faith,  she's  a  Trojan  mouser ! 

PANTHIA. 

Had  this  patch 

Of  seeming  innocence  with  elfin  eye 
Veiled  like  an  insect's,  purblind  as  a  moth 
That  flits  in  twilight  musings,  owned  a  heart, 
She  soon  had  found  a  mate.     Now  flutters  she 
'Twixt  earth  and  heaven  in  a  star-fed  dream, 
And  draws  a  qualm  on  us.     The  god  is  right. 
And  right  religion  is  a  sterling  good, 
And  must  be  practiced. 

13 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

KING. 

Mother,  speak  thou  next. 
QUEEN. 

I  cannot  speak.    A  pallor's  over  me. 
The  child  subdues  me.     If  her  spirit's  reach 
Hath  touched  Olympus,  Zeus  will  draw  her  up. 

KING. 

Psyche,  speak  thou. 

PSYCHE. 

It  is  Apollo's  voice  and  I  do  trust  it. 

KING. 

O   blessed   Psyche !     Faith   that  breaks  the  hearts 
Of  them  that  have  it  not!     I  do  thy  will 
And  not  the  oracle's.     I,  thy  acolyte, — 
Follow  thy  pretty  foot-prints  up  the  rock, 
To  thine  hymeneal  tomb. 

[To  the  attendant. 
Let  torches  flame 
And  be  a  dirge  low-chanted  through  the  grove. 

[Music.  PSYCHE  takes  a  fond  adieu  of  each 
of  her  family  in  turn,  the  sisters 
treating  her  somewhat  distantly.  She 
ascends  the  tomb.] 

DIRGE. 
On  the  tomb  must  Psyche  lie, 

Raised  upon  a  living  stone, 
Brave  the  blackness  of  the  sky, 

Meet  the  might  of  Fate  alone. 

On   her  gently-heaving  breast 
Closed  her  marble  hands  must  lie  ; 

Now  her  spirit  is  at  rest, 
Psyche  ever  sought  the  sky. 

Zephyrs,  wandering  through  the  night, 
With  your  tender  finger-tips 
14 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

Touch  the  eyes  that  burn  so  bright, 
Kiss  the  closed  and  silent  lips. 


Lead  the  creeping  clouds  aside 
Till  the  star-lit  deeps  appear; 

They  shall  shine  upon   the  bride 
Through   the   azure   atmosphere. 

Hallowed  radiance  shall  fall 

On  the  virgin's  bier  and  pall 
When  the  spangled  beams  above  her 
Show  her  the  appointed  lover — 
Draw  the  blessed  pair  on  high, 

Psyche  ever  sought  the  sky. 
[The  dirge  turns  to  a  dead  march.    Exit  in 
sad  procession  all  but  PSYCHE.    Silence. 
Enter   CUPID 

CUPID. 

A  long  ride  on  a  tired  rainbow  to  a  proud  beauty's 
funeral.  This  should  be  the  spot.  Cypresses  here, 
roses  there.  And  yonder  the  small  shrine  of  some 
great  deity.  [Approaching  a  niche.]  Venus  Victrix. 
Ah,  ah!  "Venus  Victorious."  That  has  often 
meant  the  hair-brush  to  me.  Safe !  She's  not  here. 
But  I  will  offer  a  wreath  and  say  a  prayer  to  her 
Divinity. 

[Hangs  a  wreath  against  the  fane.     Kneels. 
Mother,  hear  my  prayer,  I  say, 
Cupid  bows  him  to  thy  sway : 
Cupid  kneels  in  blessed  hour, 
Lauds  thy  power; 
Lifts  his  little  hands  to  say 

Keep  away! 

Darling  mother,  stay  away! 
[Looks  about;  tiptoes  about,  sees  the  tomb. 
15 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

CUPID. 

Here  is  some  ancient  sculptured  sepulchre 
On  which  the  artist  graved  a  nymph  asleep 
In  breathing  marble.     Genius  throws  its  heart 
On  rich  men's  coffins.     In  this  burial  grove 
Great  heiresses  erect  their  monuments, 
And  my  fierce  virgin  is  exposed  here, 
Living  among  the  dead. 

[Takes  an  arrow  from  his  quiver  and  fits  it 
to    the    bow. 

I'll  drive  a  shaft, 

If  I  can  find  a  maid  to  merit  it. 
These  cruel  monsters  must  not  have  their  will. 

[He  starts. 

What  wind  could  lift  that  marble  drapery? 
And,   hist!   the   hand   doth   move.      'Tis  she,   my 

quarry ! — 

Flash!  and  my  arrow  shivers  through  her  soul, 
My  toes  through  the  tree  tops. 

[Observes  her  more  closely. 
What  an  earnest  brow, 
Steep  and  yet  dulcet, — a  dark  symphony. 
This  is  no  vixen,  but  a  shepherdess 
That  guards  a  flock  of  dreams. 

Whom  should  she  love? 
Some  giddy  lad — like  me — some  trifling  Jack, 
Or  cart-boy. 
Nay,  I'll  hide  myself 

Lest  she  should  wake.       I'll  walk  invisible 
And  gloat  upon  the  magic  of  her  sleep. 
Ah,  could  I  step  within  that  spirit's  beam, 
Become  a  daring  figure  in  her  dream, 
I'd  lay  my  bow  aside  for  centuries, 
To  sit  against  her  couch. 

[Lays  down  his  bow  and  sits  by  the  tomb. 
Recites. 
16 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

Psyche  slept  within  the  cell 
Of  a  deep  enchanted  well, 
Where  the  stars  came  peeping; 

Cupid,  at  the  brink, 

Stopped  to  take  a  drink 
And  sees  her  sleeping. 

Down  he  dived  and  deep  he  sank 
Past  the  dripping  mosses  dank 
Where  the  stars  came  peeping; 

Kissed  her  chestnut  hair, 

Vanished  through  the  air 
And  left  her  sleeping. 

PSYCHE. 

A  sound  of  wings !    The  serpent  steers  his  flights 

Across  Orion's  belt.     O  starry  field 

Where  stand  the  ancient  sentinels  of  night, 

Send  me  some  shield ; 

Protect  a  virgin  in  her  helpless  plight 

Who  knows  not  how  to  strive  nor  how  to  yield, 

Give  her  some  armor  bright, 

Some  key  to  love's  o'er-mastering  mystery; 

Or  kill  me  quite 
And  tomb  me  in  the  arms  of  stainless  death. 

CUPID.    [To  PSYCHE.] 

He  that  approaches  is  invisible. 

PSYCHE.     [Sitting  up.] 
Where? 

CUPID. 

In  the  dim  waste  and  ocean  of  the  sky 

Swims  Cupid.    Yet  he  is  an  earth-born  wight. 

PSYCHE. 
Where? 

17 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

CUPID. 

In  the  target  of  thy  blazing  eye, 
Yet  blank  as  space  ere  Chaos  shuffled  in 
To  thy  perceiving. 

PSYCHE. 

Will  he  harm  me,  then? 

CUPID. 

Ay,  as  the  sun  the  earliest  violet, 

With  warmth  invisible. 

PSYCHE. 

O  hidden  love, 
Psyche  hath  known  thee  ever. 

CUPID. 

By  mine  eyes 

Which  mother  Venus  scarfs  to  keep  me  young, 
I  am  thy  love,  the  dragon  of  thy  dream, 
Sent  by  the  gods  to  waft  thee  to  a  home 
Where  walls  of  agate  studded  o'er  with  gems 
Reflect  the  dyes  of  Persian  needlework ; 
And  crystals  gleam  on  slabs  of  porphyry, 
And  winds  in  livery  do  the  housewifery, 
And  columns  keep  a  watch  o'er  leafy  lawns, 
Where  sulky  breezes  in  the  winking  dusk 
Tiptoe  across  Aeolian  instruments 
Melodiously  attuned.     Their  lord  am  I, 
Who  in  the  virgin  palace  of  thy  mind 
Reigned  ever,  Psyche.     Leave  thy  chrysalis 
And  flutter  in  the  kingdom  of  the  trees. 
I   am   thy  husband. 

PSYCHE. 

Shall  I  not  see  him? 

18 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

CUPID. 

That  would  ruin  us. 

A  random  wanton  boy,  condemned  to  live 

At  random  and  a  wanton,  would  be  all 

Thine  eye  could  fasten  on,  a  ruddy  boy 

Such  as  the  sweating  hay-field  shows  in  June, 

A  hoyden  romper. 

[He  kneels  before  PSYCHE,  who  has  de 
scended  from  the  tomb  during  his  speech. 
She  stares,  extends  her  hands  and 
touches  both  sides  of  his  bushy  head  with 
her  finger-tips. 

PSYCHE. 

But  thou  art  young! 

CUPID. 

Kneeling,  of  course,  Minerva!     I  am  shod. 

With  wings  like  Mercury. 

PSYCHE. 

Thy  crisped  head 
Is  warm  and  prickly. 

[Rises. 

CUPID. 

'Tis  a  chestnut-burr, 
And   I  a  spreading  tree  to  shade  thy  life. 

PSYCHE. 

Thou  art  some  monarch,  then,  but  in  disguise? 

CUPID. 

Disguise,  dear  love,  is  Cupid's  uniform, 

His  monarchy  is  Life. 

PSYCHE. 

May  I  not  see  thee  ever?    Not  at  eve, 
When  lovers  walk  in  shadow?     Not  at  dawn, 
When  the  vermilion  ray  of  Phoebus  dyes 
19 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

The  sleeping  lover's  cheek?     Must  I  forego 
The  very  eye  of  life,  not  see  my  love? 

CUPID. 

'Tis  the  hard  law ;  for  once  you  eyed  my  shape 
Our  bliss  would  vanish.    I  should  flee  away: 
One  look  would  be  thy  last. 

PSYCHE. 

I  take  thee,  then, 
Unseen,  my  Bridegroom. 

CUPID. 

'Tis  a  name 

That  suits  me  well.    Come,  sylvan  trumpeters, 

Assemble  every  denizen  of  the  glade. 
Here  about  the  empty  tomb 
Let  fays  and  spirits  promptly  come; 
Flocking  elves  and  naiads  dancing 
Interlaced   with   satyrs   prancing, 
Weave  a  merry  chorusing. 
Cupid  and  Psyche  in  the  ring 
With  jocund  elbow  and  with  reel 
Shall  play  the  hub  to  Hymen's  wheel. 
Hymen,  Hymen,  come! 

Enter   HYMEN,   followed   by   PAN,   CERES  and  a 
troop  of  nymphs  and  satyrs. 

PSYCHE. 

Apollo  guide  us,  here  be  goatish  shapes! 

CUPID. 

The  woodland  minstrelsy  with  trembling  pipe 
Hymns  our  betrothal.    Come,  Hymen,  to  your  task ! 
[Procession,  dance  and  tableau.     The  Betrothal.] 


20 


ACT  II 

SCENE  I.  A  room  in  the  King's  Palace.  A  table 
with  wine  cups,  jars,  flowers,  etc.  It  is  early 
morning,  and  the  disorder  of  flowers,  wreaths, 
and  wine-jars  shows  that  the  night  has  been 
spent  in  a  classic  drinking  bout. 

AEON  and  PODAGRA. 
SONG 

The  scattered  rose  leaves  lie  about, 

The  yellow  tapers  fade  and  die. 
Wine  boy!  the  cask  of  night  is  out, — 

And  morning's  in  the  sky. 
All  night  the  cups  their  course  have  run — 
Bring  me  a  jar  to  greet  the  sun: 
Bring  wine! 

With  silver  flutes  in  every  key 

Musicians  warble,  pipe  and  play; 
The  thrush  from  out  the  hawthorn  tree, 

The  sparrow  from  the  spray; 
With  mingling  tunes  and  magic  words — 
Bring  me  a  jar  to  greet  the  birds: 

Bring  wine ! 
PODAGRA. 

Come,  now,  dear  Aeon,  shall  we  go  sleep,  or  shall 
we  drive  sorrow  about  the  garden,  with  roses 
crowned?  It  has  taken  all  these  jugs  of  Chian  to 
keep  me  listening  to  your  thieves'  tales  of  Troy 
divine. 

21 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

AEO.N. 

We  are  nearing  the  end  of  the  good  wine.     What 

shall  we  do  then  ? 

PODAGRA. 

Buy   more.     There's   the   King's    treasure. 

AEON. 

We're  nearing  the  bottom  of  the  King's  treasure- 
chest. 

PODAGRA. 
What! 

AEON. 

All  the  gold  is  gone.    Only  silver  of  Antioch !    We 

shall  have  very  few  more  carouses,  brother-in-law. 

PODAGRA. 

Horrors!  To  think  I  dropped  my  last  talent  at  a 
cock-fight  at  the  festival  yesterday.  But  we  can 
always  borrow. 

PODAGRA. 

Yes,  if  we  could  only  find  someone  who  doesn't 
know  us,  brother.  Let  me  see, — Our  new  brother- 
in-law,  Psyche's  husband! 

AEON. 

But  we  don't  know  him,  brother.     He's  a  mystery. 

PODAGRA. 

He's  a  rich  mystery:  he  sends  these  presents.     All 

these  statues  and  gold  boxes  and  bales  of  precious 

wares. 

AEON. 

But  who  is  he?    Where  does  he  live? 
22 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

PODAGRA. 

He  must  live  somewhere  and  in  a  great  lovely  place, 
and  he  is  surely  one  of  the  princes  of  the  earth. 
Besides,  he  loves  us,  or  why  should  he  send  these 
gifts?  We  must  find  him  out,  and  borrow  money 
of  him. 

AEON. 

Your  wife  Panthia's  a  sorceress  who  can  find  out 

anything. 

PODAGRA. 

Not  for  the  world!  She  would  turn  us  both  into 
weasels.  She  spends  all  night  over  her  spells  and 
her  cookeries.  Hist!  I  hear  someone.  It's  Meroe. 

AEON. 

My  wife?  I'll  walk  on  the  terrace.  She's  been 
out  of  temper  this  twelvemonth,  ever  since  the  good 
news  came  that  Psyche  was  happy. 

PODAGRA. 

A  coward,  brother? 

[PODAGRA  is  going  out,  but  is  stopped  by 

MEROE'S  speech. 
MERGE. 

Ye  swilled  and  idle  wassail-sipping  fools 
Who  soil  the  morning  with  the  fumes  of  wine 
And  steal  a  living,  like  old  miscreants 
At  cellar  windows,  royal  pilferers 
Who  do  disgrace  the  household  of  a  king, 
What  plot  ye  here? 

AEON.      [Nervously.] 

My  love,  we  plotted  nothing. 

PODAGRA. 

We  spoke  of  Psyche    and  her  husband-prince. 
23 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

MERGE. 

The   serpent,   mean  you? 

PODRAGA. 

Ay,  but  he  is  rich. 

A  prince, — this  unknown  husband  is  a  prince, 
Who  sends  these  lumps  of  lapislazuli, 
Amber  and  silk.     No  month  but  gifts  arrive. 

MERGE. 

To  flout  me,  Psyche  sends  them.  She  is  rich. 
Her  husband  is  a  monarch,  handsome,  young; 
Mine  is  an  old,  dishonest,  drunken  beggar. 

AEON. 

I'll  walk  awhile  on  the  terrace.     I  plotted  nothing, 

my  love. 

[She    stops    AEON    with    a    gesture,    and 

speaks  to  PODAGRA. 
MEROE. 

Thee  will  I  talk  with :  thou  hast  hit  my  thought. 
The  presents  come  at  night,  and  are  thrown  in 
Seemingly  by  the  wind.     Behind  this  wind 
Lies  magic. 

PODAGRA. 

Then  let  Panthia  cope  with  it. 

MERGE. 

She  does:  for  now  within  her  charms  she  holds 

The    hunchback,    Glow-worm,    watchman    to    our 

house ; 

'Tis  he,  and  he  alone,  has  seen  them  come; 
But  in  his  drowsy  brain  no  reason  swims. 
Our  Glow-worm  is  half  goblin  and  half  slave, 
And  dreams  within  that  fairy  wilderness 
Where  all  things  meet. 

24 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

PODAGRA. 

Where  is  this  inquest  held? 

MERGE. 

In  Panthia's  cave. 
PODAGRA. 

On  tiptoe  then!     Advance  and  lead  us  there. 
Exeunt  severally. 


ACT  II 

SCENE  II.  The  Cave  of  PANTHIA.  She  is  at  work 
over  an  incantation,  and  arranges  her  appa 
ratus.  A  steaming  tripod  is  before  her.  Glow 
worm  sits  coiled  and  drowsy  under  her 
spells. 

PANTHIA. 

Sound,  katydids,  your  softest  'tremolo 
And  let  the  treble  crickets  to  his  ears 
Play  the  first  stave  of  evening's  overture. 

[Music.     Enter  at  the  back  MERGE. 

PANTHIA.     [To  MERGE.] 

Hush!     He  is  in  the  snare.     Speak  low,  speak  low. 
Since  I  have  seen  thee  I  have  mighty  news. 
Our  sister's  husband  is  the  God  of  Love! 

MERGE. 

What !    Would  no  mortal  do  ?    The  God  of  Love ! 

PANTHIA. 

See  what  the  carrier  of  the  setting  sun 
Dropped  me  from  Paphos. 

[Reads  a  paper. 
PROCLAMATION. 

I,  Venus,  send  this  greeting  to  all  the  witches  in 
Lydia.  My  snub-nosed  boy,  Cupid,  is  lost.  I  sent 
him  to  destroy  the  new  goddess,  Psyche,  and  the 
twain  have  vanished  in  a  rolling  cloud.  The  silly 
maid  knows  not  who  her  lover  is,  and  she  cannot 
26 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

see  him.     If  she  shall  once  look  upon  him  I  shall 

triumph  over  both. 

When    they   are   found,    cast   the   spell   of   Venus 

upon  Psyche  and  bid  her  hold  a  lamp  at  midnight 

above  her  sleeping  husband. 

Ride — ride — ride.     Find — find — find ! 

Venus  Victrix. 
MERGE. 
Where  are  the  runaways? 

PANTHIA. 

The  mind  that  knows 
Lies  dreaming  in  yon  stupefied  cocoon. 

MERGE. 

Our  servant  Glow-worm? 

PANTHIA. 

Yes,  the  watching  worm 
Has  seen  Dan  Cupid's  servants  come  and  go 
Bringing  the  presents. 

Enter  on   tiptoe  AEON  and  PODAGRA 
What!  must  these  shallow  swaggerers  assist 
At  Hecate's  holy  mysteries? 

[To  them.} 
Beware!     Silence! 
A  word  will  ruin  all  my  charms. 

AEON.    [In  a  whisper  to  PODRAGA.] 
Shade   him,    bedew   him!      He's   uncoiling.      See'st 
thou  the  horrible,  hairy  fuzz  of  the  monster?    Lord, 
how  his  smoky  eyes  fright  me ;  and  his  feelers  wave 
at  us  like  crawfish  in  a  dream. 

PANTHIA. 

Silence!     Let  no  one  question  him  but  me. 

I  know  his  language. 

27 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

GLOW-WORM. 

Darkness. 

PANTHIA.     [Recites  charm.'] 

When  by  the  Lydian  palace  gate 
The  trooping  shadows  congregate, 
Servant-goblins,    fairy-grooms, 
Horsemen  from  imperial  stables, 
Valets  hot  from  gilded   rooms, 
Trenchermen  from  royal  tables, 
Housemaids,  idle  as  their  brooms, 
Whisper,  gossip,  sip  and  revel, 
Clink  and  chatter  through  the  glooms, 
Flirt  and  play  the  merry  devil; 
While  athwart  the  furtive  throng 
Broken  music  from  on  high, — 
Where  the  snoring  princes  lie, — 
Breathes  a  burden  to  their  song, 
Such  joys  amid  the  falling  dews 
Glow-worm's  somber  lamp  reviews. 

PANTHIA.     [To  GLOW-WORM.] 
Saw'st  thou,  Glow-worm,  darkly-bright 
Messengers  in  the  moony  light, 
Post  boys  running,  and  postilions 
Speeding  on  the  wings  of  night? 

GLOW-WORM. 

[After  a  pause,  raising  his  head,  dreamily.] 
Zephyr  taps  but  never  knocks, 
Zephyr  sweeps  but  never  lingers, 
Hiding  in   her  taper  fingers 
Many  an  alabaster  box. 

PANTHIA. 

Ha!  Zephyr!  [To  the  rest.]  He  speaks  the  name 
Zephyr.  Zephyr  is  a  servant  of  the  young  god  and 
runs  his  errands.  She  stole  after  the  lovers  to  be 
their  slave.  [To  GLOW-WORM.]  Who  is  Zephyr? 
28 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

GLOW-WORM. 

Handmaid  to  all  heavenly  pleasures, 
Throne-girl  to  Queen  Psyche's  state. 
Nimble  Zephyr  heaves  the  treasures 
At  our  shining  marble  gate. 

PODAGRA. 

Ask   him    how    to    get    there.      Let   him    tell    the 

itinerary. 

MERGE. 

Ask  him  how  we  can  visit  our  sister. 

PANTHIA. 

Sister  Psyche,  shining  Queen — 
We  would  visit  her  demesne. 

GLOW-WORM. 

When  the  daybreak  smites  the  crag, 

Fasting,  climb  its  rocky  spire ; 
Wave  thy  mantle  for  a  flag 

Plunge  to  darkness  through  the  fire. 
Zephyr's  arms  shall  then  receive  thee, 
Cradling  bear,  and  lightly  leave  thee 

At  the  Palace  of  Desire. 

PANTHIA. 

We  must  climb  the  crag  and  cast  ourselves  into  the 
abyss.  Then  will  Zephyr  catch  us  and  carry  us 
into  the  palace. 

AEON.     [To  PODAGRA.] 
Madness ! 

PODAGRA. 

I  like  not  this  plunging.  Who  can  tell  how  good 
a  catch  this  Zephyr  may  prove.  Zephyr  is  like  to 
be  a  fumbling  ball-player.  The  creature  has  col 
lapsed.  This  deliverance  was  a  great  effort  of 
29 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

divination  for  him.  He  is  become  a  worm  with 
out  a  glow.  I  cannot  fear  him  now.  Lo,  I  will 
kick  the  prophet.  [GLOW-WORM  moves  his  feelers.'] 
Ghost  of  Patroclus !  Move  him  out,  some  of  you ! 
Control  him,  my  dear  Panthia! 

PANTHIA. 

Sister  Meroe,  to-morrow  we  shall  see  Psyche ! 

MERGE. 

And  her  husband! 

PANTHIA. 

To-morrow  at  dawn  you  and  I  will  climb  the  peak 
and  cast  ourselves  from  its  pinnacle.  Then  will 
Zephyr  spread  her  arms  for  us  and  waft  us  to  the 
Palace  of  Psyche.  [She  holds  up  the  Proclamation.] 
"When  they  are  found,  let  Psyche  hold  a  lamp  above 
her  sleeping  husband  at  midnight." 

MERGE. 

How  can  we  get  her  to  do  that? 

PANTHIA. 

Charm  her,  child!  The  great  world-powers  are 
now  our  ministers.  Panthia's  wings  are  spread. 
Fear  nothing. 

AEON.     [To   PODAGRA.] 

This  is  not  a  man's  work,  brother  Podagra.    After 

all,  this  paying  of  visits  is  woman's  business. 

PODAGRA.     [To  AEON,  nodding] 

Head  pins  and  curl  boxes!     Shall  we  go  see  the 

Thracian  boxer  at  the  amphitheatre? 

AEON.     [To  PODAGRA.] 

You  speak  like  an  oracle.    Wait  till  they  leave • 

30 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

PANTHIA.     [Points  to  GLOW-WORM.] 
Leave  him  to  sleep  off  his  stupor  in  the  cave. 
They  creep  out  severally. 


ACT  II 

SCENE   III.     PSYCHE'S  bedchamber. 
On  the  left  up-stage  a  four  poster  classic  bed,  with 
hangings.     In  the  front  of  the  stage  and  a  little  to 
the  right,  a  low  couch.    CUPID  and  PSYCHE. 

PSYCHE. 

Must  you  be  gone  so  soon,  sweet  butterfly? 
You  flit  with  morning  ever.     Say  what  hest, 
What  business  drives  your  wings  about  the  world 
In  their  invisible  and  whirring  flight, 
Touching  the  blossoms,  waking  spicy  spring, 
Or  peeping  in  the  happy  floweret's  eyes 
To  tell  them  day  is  nigh?     My  love,  my  joy, 
Whom  the  sun  snatches — Husband,  are  you  there? 
Love-bird,   I  see  thee  not.     Say  you  are  here; 
Or  fan  me  with  the  down  upon  your  wings 
That  I  may  feel  their  waving. 

CUPID. 

Lo,  my  sweet, 
I'm  at  thine  elbow. 

PSYCHE. 

Feathery  and  smooth. 

Must  you  go  floating  through  the  marble  clouds 
And  leave  me  watching? 

CUPID.      [Stringing  his  bowJ\ 

Ay,  I  have  business  at  the  Pyramids. 

PSYCHE. 

To  kiss  the  stony  lips  of  Mernnon's  statue? 
32 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

CUPID. 

Worse  than  the  stinging  kisses  of  a  bee — 

I  must  set  fire  in  a  frozen  heart 

A  league  beyond  the  towers  of  Babylon. 

PSYCHE. 

What  dreadful  trade  is  this? 

CUPID. 

Semiramis 

PSYCHE. 

With  women,  sweet?    Must  I  be  jealous  then? 

CUPID. 

Yes,  if  you  fear  the  favorites  of  heaven, 

Leda,  Alcmena  and  Persephone, — 

And  love-struck  women  of  our  golden  age ; 

Medea  with  the  wound  that  will  not  heal; 

Deserted  Dido,  Phaedra's  poisoned  pain; 

And  singing  Sappho  on  her  island  cliff. 

PSYCHE. 

Not  thee  they  love  then,  my  young  Emperor ! 

CUPID. 

Tyro,  that  in  a  glassy  curling  wave, 

Woo'd  of  the  water  god 

PSYCHE. 

But  not  of  thee 

CUPID. 

They  know  me  not.     And  I  nor  love  nor  hate, 
But  pour  my  kindling  arrows  with  the  sun, 
Life-giving  round  the  world.     Adieu,   sweet  saint, 
The  dusk  shall  find  me  on  the  window-sill 
Poised  o'er  my  bride. 

33 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

PSYCHE. 

Alas,  that  you  must  go! 

[CuPlD  steps  upon  the  low  window  sill  and 

exit  as  if  flying. 

He  is  some  feathered  minion  of  the  sky, 
Yet  loves  me  only.    All  my  heart's  in  that. 
How  many  women  know  their  husbands  less, 
And  trust  them  less.    The  serpent  in  their  lives 
Is  the  unknown.     But  my  bright  dragon's  eye 
Is  fixed  like  Arcturus  at  the  pole, 
And  turns  on  me. 

Enter  ZEPHYR 
ZEPHYR. 
O  Madam,  a  great  accident  has  happ'd 

PSYCHE. 

0  silly  Zephyr!     Could  you  know  my  bliss 
You  would  not  prate  to  me  of  accidents. 
Let  rubies  crack,  and  every  orient  pearl 
Roll  back  to  Neptune's  caverns,  I  care  not; 
My  husband  loves  me:  there's  the  crystal  cup 
That  never  shall  be  broke. 

ZEPHYR. 

The  gods  forefend ! 
And  yet  I  fear  some  bleak  calamity. 

PSYCHE. 

Speak,  foolish  girl:  there's  no  calamity 

Except  where  terror  makes  one.    Tell  thy  tale. 

ZEPHYR. 

Creeping  at  dawn,  beneath  the  orange  trees 

After  my  lord  had  sped  on  Phoebus'  wheel, 

1  saw  a  shadow  as  of  owls  in  flight ; 
And  looking  upward,  lo,  the  princesses, 
Your  sisters,  Meroe  and  Panthia, 

In  gorgeous  raiment  clad, — like  pheasants  fall, 
34 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

Wheeling  and  tumbling  through  the  airy  light, 
As  if  some  great  magician  on  the  rock 
Had  hurled  them  to  their  doom. 

I  could  not  pause, 
Nor  reason,  but  to  save  their  lives 
I  stretched  my  arms  to  catch  them. 

PSYCHE. 

Are  they  hurt? 
ZEPHYR. 

Ruffled  and  panting,  but  not  hurt,  they  rest 
Beneath  a  blossom-dripping  pergola. 

PSYCHE. 

Let  them  come  here. 

Mercy,  but  this  is  strange!     Some  angry  fiend 
Pursues  my  sisters. 

ZEPHYR. 

No,  'tis  they  that  hunt. 
Beware,  my  lady!     Panthia  is  a  witch, 
And  both  look  black  as  malice. 

Exit  ZEPHYR 
PSYCHE. 

Not  against  me. 

I  never  wished  them  ill  or  gave  ill  words, 
When  for  my  coyness  they  would  threaten  me 
Because  I   would  not  wed.     And  can  they  storm, 
If  I  have  drifted  into  happiness 
Across  a  tomb?     My  joy  will  bear  me  up 
Against  all  taunting. 

Enter  MERGE  and  PANTHIA 
Welcome,  my  sisters,  howsoe'er  ye  come. 
Ye'll  give  me  tidings  of  my  mother  dear, 
And  that  old  man,  that  dear  and  sacred  head, 
My  father.     Does  his  blessing  come  with  you  ? 

MERGE. 

Our  father  is  quite  well. 

35- 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

PANTHIA. 

And  mother,  too. 

And,  Psyche,  they  have  grieved  at  your  neglect. 
Why  hide  you  in  this  palace,  why  conceal 
The  station  of  your  lord?    A  criminal 
Who  cloaks  his  evil  doings  from  the  day, 
And  bids  his  wife  eschew  her  family, 
Could  not  be  colder. 

MERGE. 

Why  leave  us  to  come 
O'er  breakneck  battlements  to  this  abode 
Of  gorgeous  wonder,  here  to  find  at  last 
A  Queen  too  proud  to  know  us? 

PANTHIA. 

Could  not  you 

Have  sent  some  message  to  your  aged  saint, 
Your  father? 

MERGE. 

Could  you  not  have  told  your  name? 

[They  are  a  little  insistent  and  vaguely  press 
ing  and  threatening.  Enter  ZEPHYR  at 
the  back. 

PSYCHE. 

Alas,  my  name  is  Psyche. 

MERGE. 

Ay,  but  his 

PSYCHE. 

Zephyr,  bring  seats  and  cushions. 

[PSYCHE   helps   to   do   so   herself. 
MERGE.      [Aside  to  PANTHIA,  pointing  to  table.} 

Rubies  of  Cathay. 
The  hangings,  needlework!     No  cradle  yet. 

PANTHIA.     [To  MERGE.] 

/  see  no  husband.     [To  PSYCHE.]     May  we  sit  and 

talk? 

36 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

PSYCHE. 

Pray, — at  your  will. 

MERGE. 

The  journey  was  severe. 

PANTHIA. 

And  you  shall  tell  us  of  your  householdry, 

The  woman's  way.    Your  husband  is  from  home  t 

PSYCHE. 
Yes,  sister. 

MERGE. 

Is  he  often  so,  my  dear  r 

PSYCHE. 

Why,  yes,  I  hardly  know— I  should  have  asked 

For  yours.    Are  Aeon  and  Podagra  well 

PANTHIA.     [To  MERGE.] 

The    woman's    watching    us.  ^^ 

Zephyr  is  your  name. 
Fetch  me  a  cup  of  water  from  the  spring. 

[ZEPHYR      demurs      and     looks      towards 
PSYCHE. 

PSYCHE. 

A  cup   of   water,   Zephyr. 

Exit  ZEPHYR 
MERGE. 
What  is  your  husband's  office? 

PSYCHE. 

I  scarce  know 

That  I  can  tell  his  office. 

MERGE. 

What's  his  name? 

PANTHIA. 
How  old  is  he? 

37 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

MERGE. 

How  handsome? 
Is  he  gay,  or  solemn,  like  yourself? 

PANTHIA. 

And  did  he  come 

With    prancing   horses   to    the    monument 
Or  swim  like  Luna  towards  Endymion 
Down  from  the  sky? 

PSYCHE.     [Aside.] 

If  I  could  show  my  love  invisible 

I'd  not  expose  him  to  their  vulture  eyes. 

He  is  the  lord  and  savior  of  my  soul 

That  only  can  be  seen  with  eyes  of  love. 

[During  the  following  colloquy  MERGE  and 
PANTHIA  draw-  nearer  and  nearer  to 
PSYCHE,  who  is  at  first  surprised,  then 
affronted,  and  finally  confused  and 
dazed  by  the  attack. 

PANTHIA. 

Thy  husband  lives? 

Show   us   his   picture. 

MERGE. 

Let  us  see  his  cloak. 
Tell  us  the  nearest  guess  thou  hast  of  him. 

PANTHIA. 

[Making  passes   in   the  air  over  PSYCHE.] 
Tell,   tell,   tell! 

PSYCHE.      [As  if  overcome  by  the  spell.] 
At  night  my  love  appears 
Like  Hermes  in  the  dusk — a  Phidian  shape, 
With  the  immortal  beauty  of  his  mind 
Surrounding  me. 

38  '. 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

PANTHIA.     [To  MERGE,  almost  hissing. ,] 

In  the  blind  soul  of  her  moth's  mind  and  when 

common  sense  and  common  eyesight  are  shut,  Psyche 

sees! 

MERGE.     [To   PANTHIA.] 
Now  strike! 

PANTHIA. 

[Approaching    PSYCHE   and   making   passes 

with  heavy  power.} 
When  the  Tyrian  dyes  commingle 

In  the  moonlit  corridors, 
And  the  stars  of  midnight  tingle 

In  the  Parian  marble  floors, 
And  the  spirits  creep  and  crouch 
Past  the  bridegroom  and  his  couch; 

When    the   breezes   lift  his  hair 

Spicing  it  with  juniper, 
And  the  earthy  breath  of  night, 
Cool  and  bitter,  blithe  and  damp, 
Feeds  the  flicker  of  a  lamp, 
Which  the  little  bride  doth  light, 
Holding  it  above  the  couch 
While  the  spirits  creep  and  crouch ; 

Lift  it,  hold  it  high  above; 

Psyche,  view  thy  sleeping  love! 

MERGE. 

You  have  dazed  her. 

PANTHIA. 

I  have  stabbed  the  poison  to  her  entrails.  Come! 
[To  PSYCHE.]  Sister,  we  must  go  now.  Bid  your 
slave  lift  us  to  the  battlement. 

PSYCHE.     [Dazed,  smiling.] 

Going  so  soon  ?    But  I  must  show  you  the  orangery. 
You  will  tell  father  you  saw  Psyche.     All's  well. 
39     N' 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

[Aside.]  I  have  a  pain  here  that  I  had  when  I 
was  three  years  old,  and  saw  the  black  creature  by 
the  fountain.  [To  sisters.]  Forgive  me,  sisters,  if 
I  have  slighted  you.  My  head  swims  a  little.  But 
you  are  welcome. 

MERGE. 

A    natural    illness.      Sister    Panthia,    we    had   best 
leave  now. 
Enter  ZEPHYR.    Exeunt  MERO.E  and  PANTHIA. 

ZEPHYR. 

What  have  they  done  to  you?     Lie  down,  Madam. 

The  vixens  have  hurt  you.     Did  they  bite  you? 

PSYCHE.      [Nodding  and  shuddering.] 
I  don't  know. 

ZEPHYR. 

Shall  I  dash  them  to  atoms? 

PSYCHE. 

No,   no,   no.      Let  them   go.     Waft   them   to   the 

crag.     Let  Apollo  judge.     Shut  the  doors  and  lay 

me  on  the  bed.    Too  much  light. 

[PSYCHE  lies  down.  Exit  ZEPHYR.  She 
enters  again,  closes  doors,  drau's  cur 
tains,  making  a  half-light.  ZEPHYR 
kneels  by  the  bedside. 

PSYCHE. 

Doors    are   shutting   in    my   brain.      I    shall    sleep 

soon. — Is  my  lord  come? 

ZEPHYR. 

Not  yet,  Madam. 

PSYCHE. 

Would   I   might  see  him.     When  he  comes,   wake 
me.     Do  not  let  me  sleep — Sleep's  evil.     Promise 
40     / 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

me,  Zephyr,  for  the  blinds  are  closing.     Something 
comes  down. 

ZEPHYR. 

I  promise,  my  lady. 

PSYCHE. 

Once  at  a  banquet  was  a  Lydian  boy 

With  curls  like  hanks  of  silk. 

He  called  me  queen : 
He   sidled   nigh   and   kissed   me.      Psyche   slapped 

him; — 
But  Lord,  I  loved  him. 

[Sleeps. 

[ZEPHYR  rises  cautiously,  arranges  the  cov 
erings,  sets  the  room  a  little  to  rights, 
lights  a  small  invisible  flame  in  a  house 
hold  shrine  at  the  back,  and  sits  again 
to   watch.     Enter  CUPID   between   the 
curtains  on  the  window  sill. 
CUPID. 
What,  is  it  so  late? 

[ZEPHYR  holds  up  her  finger.] 
Sickness  here!    Miasma, — odor  of  nightshade. 

[Takes  his  bow  and  arrows. 
ZEPHYR.     [As  before.'] 
Her  sisters  have  been  here. 

CUPID.     [Shrugs] 

My  arrows  cannot  reach  them.     [Lays  down  bow] 

What's  amiss? 

ZEPHYR. 

One  of  them  must  have  bit  her.     I  was  gone. 
When  I  came  back  she  fought  with  drowsiness 
Like  some  sweet  angel  dragged  upon  by  fiends, 
Bidding  me  wake  her  when  her  lord  should  come; 
41      I 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

Then  swooned  into  a  sleep,  and  now  she  moans, 
Mutters  and  clutches  in  a  restless  dream. 

CUPID.      [Approaching  the  bed.] 
Psyche,  my  Psyche 

PSYCHE. 

Husband,  is  it  thou? 
I  cannot  see  thee.     O  my  eyes  are  blind. 

CUPID. 

Nay,  dost  remember?     Love's  invisible. 

Thou  must  not  see  me  now. 

PSYCHE. 
Where  art  thou? 

CUPID. 

Here,  my  loved  one,  by  thy  side. 
PSYCHE. 
Would  I  might  see  thee. 

CUPID. 

That    would    bring   the   curse, 
The  blight  to  part  us.     Venus  wills  it  so. 

PSYCHE. 

A  tyrant!     Art  thou  sunny  or  dark-haired, 

Like  the  Egyptian  shepherds? 

CUPID. 

I  am  young, 

All  of  my  beauty  lies  in  loving  thee. 
Forbear,  my  Psyche,  shall  we  break  the  globe 
Of  our  celestial  happiness? 

PSYCHE. 

Ah,  sweet, 

Thy  comfort  comes  again.     But  go  not  hence 
42 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

Till  sleep  shall  drowse  these  phantasies  away 
And  give  us  back  the  morn. 

CUPID. 

I'll  sit  by  thee 

As  when  I  waited  at  the  sculptured  tomb, 
Watching  till  love  should  wake. 

PSYCHE. 

So  rest:  love's  best  and  sight  is  error. 

CUPID.     [To  ZEPHYR.] 

Smite  some  soft  cloud  of  music  from  thine  harp, 

But  nothing  startling. 

[Music. 

[PSYCHE  sleeps,  CUPID  watches,  nods.  Later 
he  rises  and  goes  to  the  couch,  where 
he  lies  down.  Music  changes  its  char 
acter.  PSYCHE  stirs,  rises  as  if  in  her 
sleep,  goes  to  the  back,  lights  a  little 
Greek  lamp  and  moves  forward  till  she 
holds  it  above  the  couch. 

PSYCHE. 

A  winged  boy!     O  heavens,  how  beautiful! 

'Tis  Cupid  with  his  quiver  at  his  back. 

A  god !    A  glowing  and  immortal  child 

More  radiant  than  Apollo's  archery, 

With  crisped,  burnished  ringlets  on  his  brow 

Smiling  in  slumber.     Yet  of  manly  port 

As  if  Adonis  on  a  hunting-trip 

Bore  Cupid's  dart.     O  Psyche,  drone  and  slave, 

This  is  thy  master!     Kneel  and  kiss  his  feet, 

Then  seek  thy  happy  couch  to  dream  again. 

[She  makes  a  misstep  and  a  drop  of  burning 
oil    is    seen     to    flicker    slowly    down 
through  the  air  and  seems  to  light  on 
CUPID.    He  springs  up,  seizes  his  bow. 
43 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

CUPID. 

Off,  Villains!    Murder!    Something  has  burned  me. 

A  scalding  drop  of  oil  has  hurt  my  wing! 

My  girl,  how  come  you  here?  Why  stand  you  thus, 

And  hold  a  dizzy  lamp?    What  eyes  thou  hast! 

A  glaring  Gorgon  sees  not  more  than  thou. 

Thou  dost  behold  me!     Psyche,  Psyche  mine, 

There  is  no  leisure  for  a  long  adieu, 

For  Venus  springs  her  net.     My  sweet,  my  soul, 

I'll  love  thee  ever! 

[The  clank  of  chains  is  heard.  The  lamp 
falls  and  is  dashed  to  pieces.  Dark 
ness.] 

Too  late!     The  goddess  comes! 

[Prison  noises  and  disordered  scuffle,  then 
silence  and  complete  darkness.  The 
light  glows  and  shows  VENUS  VICTRIX. 
At  her  feet  lie  CUPID  and  PSYCHE  in 
chains.] 

CURTAIN 


44 


ACT  III 

SCENE  I.    VENUS'  Boudoir.    VENUS  at  her  toilet. 
FOTIS  is  putting  on  her  slippers. 

VENUS.     [Aside.] 

I'll  conquer  yet!     The  miscreants  are  gaff'd 

But  not  subdued. 

[To  FOTIS.] 

Why  do  you  fix  your  eyes 
As  if  you  saw  a  demon? 

FOTIS. 

Sorry,  Madam. 
The  wrinkle  at  your  mouth  is  sharp  as  tin. 

VENUS. 

Give  me  the  Rhodian  unguent.     I  must  smile 

Or  Mars  will  slight  me.     How's  my  peppery  boy? 

FOTIS. 

Sleeps,    Madam. 

VENUS. 

Him  I  can  control; 
But  she  is  of  a  deep  and  crafty  wit, 
And  draws  on  forces  that  I  cannot  bind, 
Clutching  at  fate  still.     Bring  the  villains  in. 

FOTIS. 

Madam,  I'll  need  a  hand  to  help  me  then; 
For  Master  Cupid  bites. 
45 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

VENUS. 

He  bites?— The  angel! 
FOTIS. 
Madam,  I  have  a  friend,  I  am  engaged. 

VENUS. 

Fotis  engaged !     To  whom,  unfeeling  girl  ? 

FOTIS. 

There  is  a  groom,  one  Glow-worm,  by  your  leave 

An  excellent  honest  man,  and  loves  me  well. 

VENUS. 

He'll  watch  thee  well  by  night !    But  what  of  him  ? 

FOTIS. 

He's   in   the   kitchen,    Ma'am:   his  powerful   arms 

Would  soon  control  young  master. 

VENUS. 
Bring  him  in. 

[Enter   GLOW-WORM   as   bridegroom.     His 
eyes  blink  at  the  light.] 

[To  FOTIS.] 
Why  does  he  wear  that  bunch  of  celery? 

FOTIS. 

It  is  his  fancy,  Ma'am,  a  badge  of  's  office. 

Oh,  he  is  very  proud  and  sensitive. 

[To  GLOW-WORM.] 
Glow-worm,  our  mistress  greets  thee. 

GLOW-WORM. 

My  duty  to  you,  Ma'am. 

[Bows  to  the  wrong  place. 
FOTIS. 

Here,  sweet,  here, 
Her  Majesty  is  here. 

46 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

VENUS.     [To  GLOW-WORM.] 

Canst  thou  attach  thee  to  a  flighty  knave 

And  hold  him  while  he  takes  his  punishment? 

GLOW-WORM. 

Ay,  if  I  lay  my  feelers  on  him  he'll  not  squirm. 

[He  agitates  his  feelers. 

FOTIS. 

I  warrant  him,  my  lady. 

VENUS. 

Fetch  them  in. 

Exeunt  FOTIS  and  GLOW-WORM 
The  boy  shall  be  imprisoned  in  a  cage 
Like  a  clipped  blackbird ;  and  the  haughty  wench 
Shall  fag  about  the  confines  of  the  world 
Harried  by  Venus'  bloodhounds. 

[Enter  from  opposite  sides  GLOW-WORM, 
holding  CUPID  and  FOTIS  leading 
PSYCHE.  The  culprits  are  still  in 
chains. 

VENUS.     [To  CUPID.] 
Ah,  ruffian! 

[To  GLOW-WORM.] 
Give  me  the  bow  and  arrows. 

CUPID. 

Mamma,  your  hair's  undone. 

\_As  he  does  this,  he  darts  a  hand  at  her  and 

snatches  a  curl.} 

Too  blond!     I  knew  the  girl  in  Attica 
Who  owned  that  curl. 

VENUS. 

Wretch !     Monster ! 
Hold  him,  Glow-worm.     Fotis,  I  bleed. 

[ CUPID  is  over-mastered. 
47 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

CUPID. 

She  bleeds  in  hairpins. 

[Struggles  and  tries  to  bite. 
VENUS.     [To  FOTIS.] 

Quick,  girl,  the  shears!  [ FOTIS  procures  a  large 
pair  of  shears,  and  VENUS  cuts  off  CUPID'S  wings, 
which  she  throws  on  the  floor.]  Now  [panting] 
the  cage!  [FoTis  fetches  a  wicker  cage  and  CUPID 
is  thrust  into  it.]  Thou  wingless  worm! 

CUPID. 

Come  nearer,  Mother,  I  will  whisper  you  a  song  in 

your  ear. 

FOTIS. 

Do  not  go  near  him,  Madam. 

VENUS.      [Looking  at  him  doatinglyJ] 
Say  it,  darling. 

CUPID. 

Love  within  a  cage 
Takes  the  tyrant's  rage. 

(Sing  small.) 
Cupid  sits  and  sings 

While  he  grows  new  wings 

[Makes  a  sudden  grab  through  the  bars  of 
cage,  but  fails  to  reach  her.] 

That's  all! 
VENUS. 
You  naughty  insect! 

[To  PSYCHE.] 
But  thou,  siren  soul, 

Defiant  woman !     Forth  against  the  world ! 
Clamber  across  the  rocks  of  Caucasus 
And  bid  Prometheus  teach  thee.     Fetch  a  jug 
Of  Lethe's  water  for  my  toilet  case; 
The  wrool-tips  of  the  guarded  golden  fleece 

48 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

Shalt  thou  collect,  and  pull  the  gossamer 
From  the  Chimera's  eyebrows  for  my  muff; 
And  thy  despair  shall  feed  my  luxury. 
Thy  spirit  shall  be  quelled  through  Venus'  power. 
Thou  art  the  slave  of  Venus  from  this  hour. 

[PSYCHE  is  driven  forth. 

CURTAIN 


49 


ACT  III 

SCENE  II.    Evening  landscape.     The  god  Pan  plays 

his  pipes. 
PAN. 

My  sleepy  goats  went  huddling  to  their  cote 
As  if  they  trusted  not  the  power  of  Pan 
Beyond  its  palings.    Nibbling  field-mice  cheep 
But  shun  the  moon.    And  with  a  shattered  hull 
Across  the  circling  oaktops,  Cynthia 
Floats  on  the  twilight.    Hark !  the  marshy  sounds, 
That  should  be  jocund,  wail  like  Acheron, 
And  night's  uneasy. 

[PSYCHE    is    discovered    crouching    in    the 

twilight.] 

Lo,  some  wayfarer 

Storm-struck  and  tottering,  a  woman  too, 
Whose  locks  the  briers  of  grief  have  rudely  combed, 
Moans  on  the  bank. 

PSYCHE. 

O  Pan,  O  universal  house  of  life, 

Pan,  Pan! 

PAN. 

Her  fluttering  pulses  tap  the  drum  of  death: 
It  is  my  summons.    Woman,  who  art  thou 
That  clutchest  in  the  broken  strings  of  thought 
To  find  the  music? 

PSYCHE. 

Pan,  O  deathless  Pan, 
Fling  thy  kind  mantle  over  Psyche's  grave 
50 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

And  turn  my  mould  to  love.     I  gave  him  all, 
Worked  as  a  bond-slave  in  the  tyrant's  mill, 
Crippled  my  heart  with  labors,  ran  the  road 
And  toiled  the  mountain,  digged  old  treasures  up 
And  drugged  the  greedy  maws  of  Cerberus 
To  feed  the  spite  of  Venus.     Still  she  smiled 
And,  as  I  sickened,  moved  her  tricky  goal. 
See  her  last  errand!     In  this  onyx  jar 
The  earrings  of  the  lost  Proserpina, 
Which  savage  Venus  covets,  are  inurned. 
But  never  shall  they  hang  by  Venus'  cheek. 
Hope  is  no  more.     Life's  cistern  is  run  out, 
And  love  is  burned  to  ashes:  let  me  die. 
My  husband  she  hath  held  in  servitude, 
While  me  she  ran  to  death  about  the  world. 

PAN. 

It  was  towards  me  that  thou  wast  journeying. 

PSYCHE. 

How?     Has  some  woman  felt  a  fate  like  mine, 

That  thou  dost  know  me? 

PAN. 

Thou  art  like   the  rest, 
Thy   feet  have  paced   the  high-road. 

PSYCHE. 

And  my  lord? 
PAN. 
Thy  tasks  have  freed  him. 

PSYCHE. 

How  ? — my  pain,  his  cure  ? 
PAN. 

The  drudgery  which  thou  hast  blindly  wrought 
Has  caused  his  wings  to  grow.     He  is  a  god 
And  will  reclaim  thee  from  all-judging  Zeus. 
Yea,  towards  Olympus  doth  thy  lover  soar, 

51 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

To  meet  his  bride  in  Immortality. 

Thy  labors  raised  him.     Lo,  what  darkness  here, 

And  yet  what  life.    Thus  thrives  invisible 

The  world  behind  the  world  that  rules  the  world, 

And   brings   the  just   to   heaven. 

PSYCHE. 

O  Pan,  great  Pan! 

Wizard  and  true  physician  of  the  soul, 
Give  me  one  drop  of  some  deep  medicine 
To  make  me  sleep. 

PAN.      [Takes  the  earrings  from  the  urn.~\ 
Toil-won  trophies  of  the  tomb, 
Starry  children  of  the  mine, 
From  the  depths  of  hell  ye  come 
In  the  depths  of  heaven  to  shine. 

[Places  them  in  PSYCHE'S  ears.} 

Psyche,  close  thy  steadfast  eyes; 
Sleep,   and  wake   in   Paradise. 


CURTAIN 


ACT  III  * 

SCENE  III.     The  Banquet  of  the  Gods 

Enter  CUPID — approaches  ZEUS 
CUPID. 

Father  of  gods  and  men,  thy  child  am  I. 
My    bride   was   by   my   mother   sacrificed 
And  held  in  durance.     Psyche  is  her  name. 
Now  by  the  might  of  thine  ambrosial  head, 
And  by  the  awful  lightnings  from  thy  throne 
I  claim  her  in  Olympus.     She  hath  saved 
The  God  of  Love.    And  thou,  cloud-throned  Zeus, 
Shalt  save  Love's  savior.     At  our  gate  one  stays, 
Borne  in  her  sleep  by  flying  messengers. 

[ZEUS  kisses  CUPID. 
HERMES, 

Eternal  Sire,  the  lad  is  eloquent, 
Young  faces  in  Olympus  are  too  scarce, 
And  these  are  heavenly. 

APOLLO. 

It  is  a  maid 
That  from  her  youth  hath  been  my  votaress. 

JUNO. 

I  see  the  eye  of  Zeus,  and  I  consent. 

VENUS. 

And  I  lack  will 
To  match  my  might  against  the  thunderer. 

*  This  last  scene  is  to  be  treated  as  a  pageant.     Con 
sult  Raphael's  picture,  etc.    Suppress  the  text,  if  desired. 

53 


CUPID  AND  PSYCHE 

ZEUS. 

Admit  the  nymph ! 

[Chorus  during  which  PSYCHE  enters  and  is 
met    by    CUPID    and    received    by    the 
gods.] 
Psyche  comes,  throw  wide  the  portals 

Set  the  lovers  side  by  side: 
In  the  throng  of  the  Immortals 
Winged  Cupid  takes  his  bride. 


She  hath  trod  the  Stygian  meadows, 
She  hath  known  the  dragon's  eye: 

She  hath   passed   beyond    the    shadows; 
Psyche  ever  sought  the  sky. 


Let  the  waves  of  the 

Waft  the  story  far  and  wride: 
While  Olympus  lifts  a  paean 

To  the  bridegroom  and  the  bride. 


54 


LAFAYETTE 

A  DIVERTISSEMENT  OF  THREE  SCENES 


DRAMATIS   PERSONS 
WASHINGTON. 
COLONEL  HAMILTON. 
LAFAYETTE. 
A  CAPTAIN. 
THE  MUSE  O,F  HISTORY. 


Lafayette  was  written  for  the  Lafayette  Fund  Com 
mittee,  and  acted  at  the  Century  Theatre  in  Janu 
ary,  1915. 


LAFAYETTE 


SCENE  I.     Washington's  Camp  at  Valley  Forge. 

A  winter  sunset.  The  camp  lies  along  a  steep  ridge, 
on  the  edge  of  the  Schuylkill  River,  which 
meanders  into  the  distance.  The  huts  are  seen 
among  pine  trees  on  whose  branches  lies  the 
snow.  On  one  side,  the  log  cabin  of  WASH 
INGTON. 

The  misery  and  destitution  of  the  troops  is  made 
apparent  by  their  ragged  uniforms  and  emacia 
tion,  by  their  bare  feet,  by  the  primitive  nature 
of  their  huts,  their  cooking  arrangements  and 
the  utensils  which  lie  about. 

WASHINGTON  stands  before  his  log  cabin. 

Enter  an  orderly 
WASHINGTON. 

Send  Colonel  Hamilton  to  me. 
Exit    orderly 

It  seems  the  British  Army  is  well  pleased 
To  burn  their  Christmas  candles  for  a  month, 
Making  such  holiday  in  Philadelphia 
That  we,  whose  Christmas  trees  stand  in  the  soil, 
May  thank  all-overarching  Providence 
For  their  rejoicings.     Should  Sir  William  guess 
What  famine  and  what  skeletons  are  here 
He'd  make  a  dash  at  us  between  the  toasts, — 
Spoiling  his  feast  with  war. 

Enter  HAMILTON 
57 


LAFAYETTE 


HAMILTON. 
Your  Excellency- 


WASHINGTON. 

Good  evening,  Colonel  Hamilton. 
What  say  our  scouts? 

HAMILTON. 

All's   quiet.      War's    asleep. 
The  danger  lurks  behind. 

WASHINGTON. 

Speak  plainly,  Sir. 

This  is  no  time  to  hint  conspiracies. 
Whom  do  you  mean,  Sir? 

HAMILTON. 

I  mean  Congress,   Sir — 
The  danger  comes  from  Congress. 

[Showing  paper.] 
A  remonstrance 
Against  our  going  into  winter  quarters. 

WASHINGTON. 

What  ?    You  say — they'd  keep  us  in  the  field  ? 

HAMILTON. 

They  wish  a  hot  campaign ;  fearing,  no  doubt, 
The  too  luxurious  living  of  our  camp. 
Civilian  intrigue  chokes  us.    We  have  fought 
While  these  same  wolfish  members  prowled  about, 
Barked  at  our  heels,  upset  our  best  commands ; 
Who  now — God  save  my  soul — begrudge  us  beds. 
These  lawyers  think  that  soldiers  feel  no  frost, 
Sleep  on  the  sod  by  nature,  drink  the  dew, 

58 


LAFAYETTE 

And  fill  their  bellies  with  a  cannonade. 

Have  I  your  leave  to  write  and  tell  them  so? 

WASHINGTON. 

Certainly  not,  Sir.     Let  me  see  the  paper. 

[HAMILTON  hands  a  paper.'} 

They  counsel  us  to  drive  the  British  out, 

Storm   Philadelphia,   and  protect  the  hearths 

Of  peaceful    Pennsylvania.      By   my   soul! 

These  gentlemen  have  written  by  a  hearth 

In  some  well-lardered,  comfortable  inn. 

Tell  them  \ve  will  receive  them   in   a  camp 

Where  men  unblanketed  sit  up  all  night 

Before  the  sentinel  fire, — where  tracks  of  blood 

Follow   a   naked    footing   at   reviews; 

Where  uniforms  mean  rags,  and  rations — famine; 

And  soldiers  who  are  beggars,  save  in  courage, 

Carry  a  nation's  fortunes  in  their  hearts. 

Unfed,  unclad,  uncomforted,   they  live 

As  if  an  inward  supernatural  fire 

Supplied  their  life.    O  might  some  spark  of  it 

Leap  out  from  our  poor,  starving  yeomanry 

To  plant  in  these  protesting  gentlemen 

A  kindred  flame  of  honor!     Show  the  camp! 

To-morrow  let  them  see  it. 

HAMILTON. 

General, 

If  I  do  that,  some  rumor  will  break  loose 
Of  our  three  thousand  sick:  one  man  in  four 
Is  on  the  sick-list. 

WASHINGTON. 

Lead    them   through   the   camp 
And  let  its  spectres  speak.     What  have  you  there? 
59 


LAFAYETTE 

HAMILTON. 

Here  are  the  day's  desertions — twenty-seven; 

And  here  a  list, — eleven  officers 

Whose  terms  expire.     And  here  the  last  memorial 

To  Congress  from  substantial  citizens 

Who  hate  the  prolongation  of  the  war. 

WASHINGTON. 

Are  they  not  "Friends," — or  peace-men? 

HAMILTON. 

Quakers,  Sir, 
Who  quake  at  all  things.     First  they  quake  with 

fear — 

And  then, — for  fear  they  have  not  quaked  enough. 
They  tremble  at  the  British,  till  we  come; 
Then  tremble  lest  we  forage  on  their  farms; 
And  being  saved  by  us,  tremble  the  more 
For  that  war-spirit  and  that  army-caste 
So  foreign  to  their  hearts,  so  dangerous 
To  true  religion  and  that  deeper  duty, — 
America's  true  mission  to  mankind. 
Never,  they  say,  can  gunpowder  assist 
The  purposes  of  God ;  and  if  we  fight 
We  but  destroy  our  future  usefulness, 
Offend  all  foreign  nations  and  become 
No  better  than  the  warring  Kings  abroad. 
If  this  memorial  were  mere  literature, 
It  were  a  pretty  piece  to  make  one  laugh. 
But,  General,  the  sad  desertions  here 

[Showing  paper.] 

And  those  whose  terms  of  valor  have  expired 
Are  children  of   these  quaking  brethren : 
Their  blood  is  cooled  by  that  memorial  ink 
Which  here  is  spilled  so  freely — 
Have  I  your  leave  to  write  and  tell  them  so? 
60 


LAFAYETTE 

WASHINGTON. 

Not  so :  we  stand  in  need  of  their  good  will 
And  they  are  kindly  people.    Yet  I  trow 
There  needs  a  government  of  common  sense 
That  shall  protect  such  kindness  with  the  sword. 
God  grant  our  country  lack  not  souls  like  these; — 
Nor  men  to  save  them.    Hamilton,  our  fate 
Sways  in  an  unseen  balance. 

[Pointing    to    the    camp.] 
Behold  a  nation's  life, 

That  in  those  twinkling  camp-fires  seems  to  merge 
In  the  still  sunset!     And  behind  them  both, — 
The  Power  that  rules  our  lives.     Leave  me,  my 
friend. 

Exit   HAMILTON 

WASHINGTON. 

Methought  I  heard  a  trumpet  in  the  sky — 

But  voices,  surely 

Enter  an  ORDERLY 
ORDERLY. 
Major  General,  the  Marquis  Lafayette. 

Exit  ORDERLY — Enter  LAFAYETTE 

WASHINGTON. 

I  knew  it  was  an  angel. 

LAFAYETTE. 

Your  Excellence  will  pardon  the  late  hour, 

And  sudden  interruption 

[WASHINGTON  and  LAFAYETTE  shake  hands 
affectionately.      They  almost  embrace. 

WASHINGTON. 

My    dear    Marquis, 

Almost  my  son — the  pleasure  that  you  bring 
Makes  every  hour  its  own.    Come  when  you  like. 
If  war  can  bring  such  union  as  we  know 
61 


LAFAYETTE 

Between  a  rough  old  soldier,  like  myself, 
And  the  white  flower  of  ancient  chivalry 
In  Lafayette, — what  charm  can  peace  propose? 
But  you  have  news 

LAFAYETTE. 

Grave  news!     Great  news! — 
Prepare, — for  to  receive  it 
Will  task  your  powers  of  self-control,  my  General. 

WASHINGTON. 

Come,  I  am  tough :    I  see  that  it  is  good. 

LAFAYETTE. 

Know,  my  Commander,  that  his  Majesty 

The  King  of  France  and  the  Commissioners 

Of  your  United  States  have  signed  a  treaty, 

Agreeing  to  effectually  maintain 

The  Independence,  sovereignty  and  freedom 

Of  these  United  States,  in  government 

And  in  commercial  dealings — absolute 

As  any  sovereign  people  on  the  earth. 

To  this  the  honor  of  an  ancient  race 

The  King  doth  pledge,  and  every  honest  guess 

Shows  that  a  fleet  and  army  follow  it. 

WASHINGTON. 

Let  us  give  thanks  to  God.     The  da\vn  was  long; 

Now  Independence,  bursting  like  a  sun, 

Shines  out  of  France.    The  mighty  shield  of  France 

Is  held  above  our  feeble  infancy; 

And  a  new  nation,  cradled  in  her  arms, 

Smiles  on  the  world. 

LAFAYETTE. 

O  Liberty,  the  heart  of  Washington 

Hath  been  thy  camp! 

62 


LAFAYETTE 

WASHINGTON. 

Marquis,  give  thanks  to  God — And  thee,  my  friend, 

The  nearest  piece  of  France  that  I  can  reach 

I'll  lovingly  embrace. — 

I  must  announce  these  blessings  to  the  men 

Whose  lives  have  wrought  them. 

Summon  the  army! 

Bring  me  pen  and  ink 

[To  ORDERLY. 
I'll  draw  a  proclamation. 

[ORDERLY  brings  table,  inkstand,  quill  pens> 
etc.     WASHINGTON  writes  the  procla 
mation.     Soft  music.] 
The  Men  Assemble 


WASHINGTON.              [Hands  paper  to  CAPTAIN.] 
Read  the  proclamation,   Sir 


CAPTAIN.     [Reads.] 

*It  having  pleased  the  Almighty  Ruler  of  the  Uni 
verse  to  defend  the  cause  of  the  United  American 
States  and  finally  to  raise  up  a  powerful  friend 
among  the  princes  of  the  earth,  to  establish  our 
liberty  and  independence  upon  a  lasting  foundation ; 
it  becomes  us  to  set  apart  a  day  for  gratefully  ac 
knowledging  the  Divine  goodness,  and  celebrating 
the  important  event  which  we  owe  to  his  divine  in 
terposition.  To-morrow  the  Army  shall  be  assembled 
in  brigades,  and  by  solemn  exercises  and  the  firing 
of  cannon  shall  celebrate  the  blessed  alliance  between 
the  arms  of  France  and  the  United  States. 
Long  live  the  King  of  France! 
Long  live  the  friendly  European  Powers ! 

*  These  phrases  are  taken  from  the  original  proclamation. 

63 


LAFAYETTE 

ALL. 

Long  live  the  King  of  France! 

Long  live  the  friendly  European  Powers ! 


CURTAIN 

SCENE  II.     Review  of  Troops  of  the  Allies  after 
the  Fall  of  Yorktown. 

Enter    before    the    curtain    the   Muse    of   History, 
bearing   a  tall  torch. 

THE  MUSE. 

I  am  the  Muse  of  History  whose  torch 

Illumes  the  tragic  caverns  of  the  Past 

With  deathless  radiance, — quiet  as  the  stars. 

Darkling  was  our  stage, 

Now  moves  a  gayer  pageant  on  your  view 

And  war's  slow  watch-fires  thrill  to  scenes  of  joy. 

Two  years  have  passed : — the  French  have  sent  a 

fleet, 

Manned  and  munitioned  by  the  Royal  Will, 
Commanded  by  old  gallant  Rochambeau, 
Heavy  with  gold  to  feed  Americans, 
And  bristling  with  the  seasoned  troops  of  France. 
This   horde  hath   wrought  our   great  deliverance; 
Yorktown    has    fallen, — where    more    Frenchmen 

fought 

Than  Yankees  in  the  Continental  ranks, — 
Yorktown,  where  Rochambeau  and  Lafayette, 
De  Grasse,  Saint  Simon,  and  that  kingly  soul, 
Cornwallis,  shed  a  lustre  of  romance 
Forever  from  the  old  world  on  the  new; 
Yea,  like  the  Paladins  of  Charlemagne, 
Or  old  crusaders  round  some  mythic  King, 


LAFAYETTE 

They  flank  the  giant  frame  of  Washington. 
They  are  our  own:  we  claim  them:  they  belong 
To  the  heroic  legend  of  our  youth 
Which  cannot  die  while  manhood  lives  in  us. 
Therefore   hath    Fancy   pictured   a   review, — 
The  Troops  that  fought  at  Yorktown, — but  be  sure 
The  siege  is  over,  and  our  tiny  men, 
Most  like  the  soldiery  of  fairy-land, 
Speak  to  the  spirit. 

[Here  follows  the  Review,  with  just  enough 
speaking  by  the  Muse  to  explain  the 
manoeuvres.  At  the  close  of  the  Re 
view,  Washington  and  Lafayette  are 
found  at  the  front  of  the  stage.] 

LAFAYETTE. 

Your   Excellence,    the   pilot   summons   me; 

And   winds   that   \vill   not  wait   blow   me   toward 

France. 

O  may  I  find  in  what  awaits  me  there 
Such  innocence,  such  courage,  so  much  hope 
As  wre  have  known — 

WASHINGTON. 

Adieu,  dear  friend.     My  thoughts  shall  fly  behind 

Where  youth  and  glory  lead  you.     May  our  names 

Like  towers  on  some  sacred  city's  wall 

Bind  our  two  nations  in  a  lasting  league 

To  save  the  world.    For,  Sir,  the  time  shall  come 

When  France,  with  all  the  treasures  of  her  mind, 

The  precious  freight  of  all  her  centuries, — 

Her  art,  her  grace,   her  freedom  and  her  love, — 

Shall  stand  in  peril.     May  my  countrymen 

Thinking  on  thee  and  me, — run  to  her   aid — 

With  hearts  as  generous  and  hands  as  full 

As  Frenchmen  showed  toward  us. 

CURTAIN 

65 


LAFAYETTE 

Before    the    curtain    enter    the    Muse    of   History. 

MUSE. 

My  torch  burns  low,  the  suffocated  world 

— Dark  as  in  earthquake — shudders  into  cracks 

That  flash   and   tremble.     Light  and   thought  are 

dead. 

But  hark!     Hell's  wheels  are  grinding  underneath 
With  muffled  and  accelerating  power 
To  wreck  the  world. 

A  crash, — a  flame, — a  groan ! 

Some  great  cathedral   falls.     Rheims  is  no  more! 
Ah,  thou  proud  beauty  of  my  centuries, 
Thou  climbing  shrine  of  intellectual  fire, 
Thou  sendest  thy  last  beacon  to  mankind. 
My  torch  hath  caught  thy  flame, — to  treasure  it 
Till  the  last  judgment! 

But,  what  form  is  this 
Of  blackened  misery? 

[A  small  child  in  rags,  through  which  its 
naked  limbs  are  seen,  limps  forward 
slowly  and  with  difficulty.] 

Child,  I  know  thee  not, — 
Yet  surely  of  my  children  thou  art  one. 
Starvation  in  thine  eye — I'll  give  thee  food, 
Whoe'er    thou    art.      Speak,    young   one;    tell    thy 
name. 

CHILD. 

I, — I  am  Belgium. 

MUSE.      [Embraces   the   child.] 

O  thou  starving  chick, 

Art  thou   the  little  Belgium   that  I   nursed, — 
Belgium,   the  saddest  child  of   History, — 
How  have  they  used  thee! 

But  thou  shalt  not  die. 

Be  sure  of  this,  my  child,  thou  shalt  not  die. 
66 


LAFAYETTE 

Thee  have  the  heavenly  angels  singled  out 

To  be  a  victim,  yea,  the  sacrifice, 

The  symbol  and  eternal  covenant 

Of  a  New  Age.    The  Kingdom  shall  be  stayed 

On  every  noblest  passion  of  the  race; 

And  "Belgium"  shall  be  written  on  the  Bond 

That  holds  mankind  at  one.     I  feed  thee  now, 

For  now  I  can  no  more.     But,  blessed  babe, 

I'll  save  thee  too! 

Behold,  a  sunset  gleam 

O'er   the   black   billows!     War   has   rolled    away, 
As  when  a  summer's  day  is  laid  to  sleep, 
And  one  bright  planet  glimmers  in  the  sky 
To  guide  my  glowing  footsteps  toward  the  stars. 


CURTAIN 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

A  CHILD'S  PLAY 


DRAMATIS  PERSONS 

FAUSTULUS      1    ^u 

an(j  I    UW    peasants    living    by    the 

ACCA  LAURENTIAJ        Tlber- 

and  Grandsons     of     the     banished     King 

REMUS  J        Numitor- 

RHEA  SYLVIA,  a  Vestal  Virgin,  daughter  of  Numi 
tor,  and  mother  of  the  twins. 

NUMITOR,   the   banished   King. 
AMULIUS,  the  usurping  King. 
THE  TUSCAN  AMBASSADOR. 

AUFIDIUS! 

and       >•    Two  of  King  Gor's  retainers. 
FLACCUS  J 
Captains,  Propraetor,  soldiers  and  servants. 

SCENES:     By  the  Tiber  and  the  King's  Palace  at 
Alba. 


NOTE 

The  fable  is  from  Viri  Romae  as  quoted  in  Bee- 
son  and  Miller's  Second  Latin  Book: 

Proca,  rex  Albanorum,  Numitorem  et  Amulium 
filios  habuit.  Numitori,  qui  natu  major  erat,  regnum 
reliquit;  sed  Amulius,  pulso  fratre,  regnavit  et,  ut 
eum  subole  privaret,  Rheam  Silviam,  eius  filiam, 
Vestae  sacerdotem  fecit,  quae  tamen  Romulum  et 
Remum  geminos  edidit.  Ea  re  cognita  Amulius 
ipsam  in  vincula  coniecit,  parvulos  alveo  impositos 
abiecit  in  Tiberim,  qui  tune  forte  super  ripas  erat 
affusus;  sed  relabente  flumine  eos  aqua  in  sicco  reli 
quit.  Vastae  turn  in  iis  locis  solitudines  erant. 
Lupa,  ut  fama  traditum  est,  ad  vagitum  accurrit, 
infantes  lingua  lambit,  matremque  se  gessit. 

Cum  lupa  saepius  ad  parvulos  veluti  ad  catulos 
reverteretur,  Faustulus,  pastor  regius,  re  animad- 
versa  eos  tulit  in  casam  et  Accae  Laurentiae  coniugi 
dedit  educandos.  Adulti  deinde  hi  inter  pastores 
primo  ludicris  certaminibus  vires  auxere,  deinde 
venando  saltus  peragrare  et  latrones  a  rapina  pe- 
corum  arcere  coeperunt.  Quare  cum  iis  insidiati 
essent  latrones,  Remus  captus  est,  Romulus  vi  se 
defendit.  Turn  Faustulus  necessitate  compulsus 
indicavit  Romulo,  quis  esset  eorum  avus,  quae  mater. 
Romulus  statim  armatis  pastoribus  Albam  propera- 
vit.  Interea  Remum  latrones  ad  Amulium  regem 
perduxerunt,  eum  accusantes,  quasi  Numitoris  agros 
infestare  solitus  esset ;  itaque  Remus  a  rege  Numitori 
ad  supplicium  traditus  est;  at  cum  Numitor 
71 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

adulescentis  vultum  considerans  aetatem  minimeque 
servilem  indolem  compararet,  baud  procul  erat,  quin 
nepotem  agnosceret.  Nam  Remus  oris  lineamentis 
erat  matri  simillimus  aetasque  expositionis  tem- 
poribus  congruebat.  Ea  res  dum  Numitoris  animum 
anxium  tenet,  repente  Romulus  supervenit,  fratrem 
liberat,  interempto  Amulio  avum  Numitorem  in 
regnum  restituit. 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 


ACT  I 

SCENE.     The  cabin  of  FAUSTULUS.     FAUSTULUS 
and  ACCA. 

ACCA. 

The  boys  are  late  again:  I  cannot  think 
What   keeps  them.     Romulus   is   lean 
With  hunting,  and  his  eyeballs  gleam 
Like  a  wild  boar's;  while  Remus  kills  himself 
To  keep  the  pace:  his  chest  was  never  good. 
Dost  thou  remember,  husband,  how  he  lay, 
Poor  rat,  amid  the  muddy  osier  twigs — 
Dost  thou  remember  Remus,  how  he  looked, 
Yellow  as  cheese?    The  Tiber  killed  his  heart, 
But  Romulus,  with  wolf's  milk  on  his  lip 
Doubled  a  fist  no  bigger  than  a  nut 
And   swelled  his  neck   like   Mars. 

FAUSTULUS, 

Ay,  and  the  distance  thundered.     The  she-wolf 
That  left  her  cubs  to  feed  them,  seeing  me, 
Circled   the   forest   edge,   then   near'd   again, 
Crowding  and  fawning  past  my  pruning-hook, 
Until  she  stood  above  the  kingly  twins 
Panting  with  pleasure;  while  they  drained  her  dugs 
Like  Bacchus  with  his  goatskin.     They  are  sprung 
Of  some  antique  and  royal  lineage. 
For  never  striplings  wore  so  high  a  mien; 
73 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

They  walk  like  statues,  and  their  chiseled  brows 
Seem  to  be  ringed  with  gold. 

ACCA. 

Would  they  were  come! 

At  dawn  a  leaden  fear  knocked  at  my  heart. 
I    rose   and   trembling   sought   them.     They   were 

gone! 

No  neighbor  saw  the  boys,  save  Regulus, 
Who  met  them  on  the  road  to  Tusculum 
An  hour  before  the  stars  of  midnight  set. 
Husband,  what  think  you? 

FAUSTULUS. 

Why,   that  they  are   gone 
To  scale  the  rocky  slopes  of  Algidus 
For  mountain  deer,  or  in  the  Alban  Lake 
Sink  their  dank  nets.     Our  hunters  will  return 
Laden  with  spoil. 

ACCA. 

O  Faustulus,  see  there! 
The  nets  and  hunting-spears  are  in  the  stand. 

FAUSTULUS. 

What?     Look  again:   it  is   impossible. 

ACCA. 

And  see,  above  the  fire,  the  arms  are  gone! 
The  swords  and  shields  are  gone.     What  can   it 
mean? 

FAUSTULUS. 

It  means — Now,  by  my  father's  ghost  I  swear, 
It  means  they're  gone  to  fight  the  robber  bands! 
Give  me  my  targe  and  hanger;  get  my  belt; 
I'm  off  to  aid  them. 

ACCA. 

You?    Too  old,  too  old ! 
74 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

FAUSTULUS, 

Too  old!     I  am  not  old.     My  teeth  can  bite, 
My  hands  can  strike,  my  nails  can  dig  their  eyes. 
These  borderers  are  vermin.     In  my  youth 
I've  beaten  such  with  flails. 

[Coughs.] 
The  cattle  thieves 

Shall  find  old  Faustulus  above  the  sod, 
And  able  for  a  thrust  at  some  of  them. 
Give  me  my  three-pronged  fork! 

ACCA. 

The  man   is  mad! 

Your  cough  is  on  you,  since  you  kneeled  too  long 
In  the  onion  patch.     [Prays.]     O  Faunus,  Faunus, 
Thee  have  I  slighted,  God  of  garden-work! 
Punish  him  not.    Three  handfuls  of  white  meal 
I'll  lay  with  salt  at  sunrise  on  thy  shrine. 
Pity  old  Faustulus,   nor  make  him  mad 
Through  age  and  weakness. 

FAUSTULUS, 

Woman,  stand  aside! 
[He  approaches  the  door,  throws  it  open  and 

a  light  streams  in. 
Fall  on  your  knees,  Laurentia, — a  vestal  virgin! 

[Both  peasants  fall  on  their  knees. 
Enter  RHEA  SYLVIA 
RHEA  SYLVIA. 

Guardian  of  the  Sacred   Flame, 

Rhea   Sylvia   is   my  name; 

Daughter  of  an  Alban  King 

From  whom  the  Roman  state  shall  spring. 

I,  a  vestal  virgin,  tending 
That  small  flame  of  fire  ascending, 
Birthless,  ageless,  and  unending, — 
Shade  with  holy  hands  the  glow, 
75 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

Kindled   centuries  ago, 

Which  Rome  unto  the  world  shall  show. 

Faustulus,  lift  your  eyes  to  Jupiter, 
And  thou  too,  Acca.      [They   rise.'] 

Clods  of  hallowed  clay 
And  foster-parents  to  anointed  flesh, 
The  boys  ye  nurse  are  grandsons  to  a  King, 
And  I  their  mother.     For  King  Numitor 
Was  by  a  wicked  brother  cast  away 
And  did  become  a  wandering  mendicant. 
But  me,  his  daughter,  Rhea  Sylvia, 
The  goddess  Vesta  saved.    The  boys  are  mine. 
Mars  is  their  father. 

[Here  a  slight  clanking  of  arms  is  heard.] 

And  their  destiny 

To  found  a  martial  state.    Their  swaddling  clothes 
Were  dipped  in  purple  ere  the  babes  were  set, 
Through  Fate's  contriving,  on  the  yellow  flood 
Of  angry  Tiber.    Take  the  token'd  rags  once  more 
Which  peasant  piety  has  wisely  hid, 
And  when  my  sons  shall  speed  them   toward   the 

King, — 

The  false  and  wicked  King  Amulius, — 
Follow  them  with  the  treasures  in  your  hands; 
But  secretly  and  quickly.     For  the  rest — 
Send  prayers  to  Jove,  and  set  a  salted  cake 
Nightly  on  Vesta's  cupboard,  by  the  hearth. 

[They  fall  on  their  knees. 
Exit  RHEA  SYLVIA 
ACCA. 

Is  it   a   goddess? 
FAUSTULUS. 

Nay,  wife,  the  legend  comes  to  me  once  more. 
This  is  the  daughter  of  King  Numitor 
Whose  wicked  brother  drove  him  from  the  throne, 
Casting  this  lady,  Alba's  rightful  heir, 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

Into  a  dungeon.    There  those  babes  were  born 

Who  through  the  will  of  Heav'n  were  cast  adrift 

To  ride  the  toppling  waves  in  yon  frail  dish 

Till  the  relenting  river  pitied  them 

And  dried  them  on  his  lap. 

But  now  a  god  hath  broke  the  seals  of  time 

To  show  the  treasure:     Mars  doth  claim  his  own; 

And  our  two  boys  are  Alba's  rightful  Kings. 

Give  me  the  trinkets. 


ACCA. 

[Goes   to    the    cradle    and   takes    out   some 
tatters  and  ornaments;  they  include  the 
smallest  size  of  baby-garments,  purple, 
and  very  rich  in  material^ 
These  are  the  treason  in  my  happiness. 
Our  life  began  the  day  you  found  the  boys, 
And  that  March  morning  when  you  brought  them 

in 

Flooded  our  home  with  joy.  Now  comes  an  ebb — 
And  these  rich  Kings  will  steal  their  children  back 
And  leave  us  empty. 


FAUSTULUS.     [Holds  up  his  hands.] 

Enough,   I  hear  them  coming. 

[The  peasants  put  back  the  rags  in  the  ark. 
Enter  ROMULUS  and  REMUS  with 
swords  and  clatter.  REMUS  is 
wounded.] 


ROMULUS. 

Hold  to  my  neck,  brother;  hold  tightly.     Don't  let 

go  your  grasp.     It's  only  a  scratch,  man,   a  mere 

slice:   my   shield   caught   the   blow.      Here,    some- 

77 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

body !       He's    fainted,     Mother.       He's    safe 

enough — Get  some  hemp  and  acanthus  leaves.  The 
villain  Ausonius  has  it, — from  me.  Mars!  I  killed 
four  of  the  foxes,  hounds,  jackals! — Get  water! 

FAUSTULUS. 

What  was  it,  Romulus?     Where  have  ye  been? 

ROMULUS. 

An  ambush,  Father.  Ausonius'  cattle  thieves.  At 
midnight  I  heard  them  in  the  paddock.  We  crept 
out,  sighted  them,  tracked  them,  followed  them  to 
the  Volscian  Bridge;  and  then — and  then — Devils! 
An  ambush !  Twenty  men  spring  out  on  us.  But 
their  arms  are  nothing — tin  skewers.  [Showing  his 
shield.]  Not  a  dint, — bronze!  If  you  had  been 
there  with  your  hayfork,  father,  we  should  have 
routed  them.  The  cowards! 

FAUSTULUS. 

There,  Mother.     I  told  you  so!     My  fork  would 

have  saved  them. 

ACCA.  [Who  is  tending  the  unconscious  REMUS.] 
Your  fork  would  have  cost  the  lives  of  all  of  you. 

FAUSTULUS. 

But  were  not  these  men  Tuscans? 

ROMULUS. 

Yes,   subjects  of   King  Gor  of   Tusculum 

Whom  if  I  live  I  mean  to  discipline 

Till  Romulus  has  banished  robbery. 

Yea,  till  his  name's  a  rocky  citadel 

That  spreads  protection  o'er  the  Latian  plain 

And  caps  a  Burgh  of  Law. 

78 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

ACCA. 

He's  in  his  dreams. 
Open  your  eyes,  my  Remus.    Remus,  dear. 

ROMULUS. 

The  lad  is  safe, — A  flesh  wound.     See,  the  blood 
Drips  and  there  is  no  clotting.     Wash  the  wound 
And  get  a  cup  of  goat's  milk,  Mother  dear — 
Both  of  us  need  it. 

FAUSTULUS. 

King  Gor  of  Tusculum's  a  mighty  name, — 
And  bound  in  Brotherhood  to  Amulius, 
Our  Alban  King. 

ROMULUS. 

Our  Alban  King's  a  thief! 
ACCA. 
Hush !     In  the  name  of  safety 

ROMULUS. 

I  have  heard — 

Know  we  not,  all  of  us,  he  is  a  thief? 
A  tyrant,  a  usurping  murderer? 
His  banished  brother  is  our  lawful  King. 

ACCA. 

Vesta,  protect  us!     Father,  he  is  waking. 

[To  RO.MULUS.] 
For  Jove's  own  sake,  forbear! 
O  Remus,  it  is  Acca.     This  is  home, 
And  there  are  Faustulus  and  Romulus. 
Stand  ye  about  the  hearth  and  say  the  prayer 
We  murmured  as  the  earliest  sunset  died 
That  gave  us  children. 

79 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

REMUS. 

Mother, — and  home 


ALL. 

Vesta,  guardian  of  the  home, 

To  thy  mysteries  we  come : 

On  thine  altar,  bowing  low, 

Barley  cakes  and  salt  we  throw. 

May  thy  still  and  holy  light 

Be  our  watch-fire  through  the  night. 

[A   tramp  of  armed  men  is  heard:  a  loud 

knocking  at   the   door.] 
CAPTAIN.     [Without.] 
Open  in  the  name  of  King  Amulius ! 

FAUSTULUS.     [Opens  door.] 
What  would  ye  here? 

Enter  CAPTAIN  and  soldiers 
CAPTAIN.     [Aside.] 

Faustulus, — peasant-farmer, — on  the  dyke, — 
Acca,  his  wife, — A  cabin  hung  with  nets. 
Two  ragged  lads  that  look  like  highwaymen. 

[Aloud.] 

Romulus  and  Remus,  I  arrest  ye 
Upon  the  charge  of  murder  and  sedition. 

[Showing  a  dagger.] 
The  blade  and  hilt  of  King  Amulius. 

[ROMULUS  raises  his  hand  and  is  immedi 
ately   disarmed  and  overmastered. 
FAUSTULUS. 
Submit,  submit,  my  son. 

[REMUS  is  raised  up.] 
CAPTAIN. 
Attention.     March ! 

[Exeunt    all    but    FAUSTULUS    and   ACCA. 
They  stand  dazed.     They  sit  down  be 
fore  the  fire.     ACCA  rises — goes  to  the 
80 


ROMLLUS  AND  REMUS 

ivlcker  ark — takes  out  the  trinkets  and 
baby  clothes  and  puts  them  in  FAUSTU- 
LUS'  hands.  He  looks  at  her,  still 
dazed,  as  he  receives  them.  They  sit  in 
silence. 


CURTAIN 


8l 


ACT  II 

SCENE:    The  throne-room  at  Alba  Longa. 

On  one  side  a  hearth  with  fire.  Before  it  sits 
NUMITOR,  disguised  as  a  wayfarer.  The  old 
mans  head  is  covered  with  a  coarse  mantle. 
He  is  in  the  attitude  of  a  suppliant,  and  sits  in 
motionless,  dreary,  stony  silence.  Enter  KING 
AMULIUS  and  the  TUSCAN  AMBASSADOR. 
The  AMBASSADOR  is  sumptuously  dressed. 

AMULIUS. 

Ah,  Prince,  you're  stirring  early.     My  good  friend 

King  Gor,  your  royal  master,  is  well  served. 

If  all  Ambassadors  were  as  diligent 

Kingdoms  would   turn  to  Empires. 

AMBASSADOR. 

God  forbid! 

We've  toil  enough  to  guard  our  heritage 
In  Tusculum. 

AMULIUS. 

A  jewel  rich  and  old 
Borne  on  the  bosom  of  a  jocund  hill. 

AMBASSADOR. 

We've  nothing  like  your  sea  of  purple  wine, 
Yon  agate  cup  of  blood,  the  Alban  Lake. 
The  crater  looks  as  black  as  precious  bronze 
With  Alba  Longa  whitening  on  the  brim 
Like  coral  reefs  in   cloudland. 
82 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

KING  AMULIUS. 

Prince,  well  said! 

However  merited.     Pardon,   sir,   this  day 
By  the  Alban  calendar  I  sit  as  Judge, 
And  many  duties  hold  me  in  their  clutch 

AMBASSADOR. 

Of  course.    Yet  stay, — the  calendar, — one  word, — 
[Pulls  from  his  belt  a  tiny  ivory  tablet  which 
is  attached  to  a  gold  chain   about   his 
neck.] 
— You  see  I've  method 

[Showing  calendar, ,] 
Oh,  Ah!    Those  two  young  savages 
That  killed  our  men.     His  Majesty  was  urgent. 

KING  AMULIUS. 

So  am  I. 

He  shall  not  find  us  slack. 
The  air  upon  the  terrace  tastes  of  dawn: 
Enjoy  it  while  I  see  my  officers. 
Believe  me,  sir,  your  business  burns  my  list. 

[They  bow;  exit  AMBASSADOR.  KING  rings 
bell.  Enter  PROPRAETOR.  KING  mo 
tions  with  his  head  towards  NUMITOR, 
but  without  turning  round.] 

Who  is  this  man? 

PROPRAETOR. 

It  seems  some  suppliant. 

KING. 

How  came  he  in? 

PROPRAETOR. 

I  know  not.     On  this  day 
The  suitors,  clients,  culprits  and  their  friends 

83 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

KING. 

Bid    him   begone. 

PROPRAETOR. 

The  law  prohibits  us. 
He  sits  within  the  sanctuaried  orb 
Of  Vesta's  warmth,  and  has  observed  its  rite. 

KING. 

I'll  question  him  myself. 

[After  a  pause,  to  PROPRAETOR.] 
What  prisoners? 

PROPRAETOR. 

Aulus,  the  murderer;  old  Pertinax 

That  railed  upon  the  priest;  one  hunchback  thief; 

And  two  young  demons  from  the  Tiber's  bed, 

With  reedy  hair,  brown  necks  and  bloodshot  eyes 

That  terrify  the  guards.     The  prison  quaked 

And  bolts  were  shaken  from  the  Etruscan  cave 

As  they  wrere  thrust  within. 

KING. 

You  were  up  all  night. 

A  cup  of  wine  will  cure  these  earthquakes,  Sir. 
The  lads  are  marked  marauders,  and  have  slain 
King  Gor's  retainers.    Be  accountable 
That  no  phantasmas  or  religious  dreams 
Appear  which  let  them  loose. 

[Gesture  as  of  turning  a  key. 
PROPRAETOR. 
I  shall,  your  Majesty. 

Exit   PROPRAETOR 
KING. 

And  yet  it's  strange.     I  heard  a  rattling  too, 
Waked  in  the  night,  saw  lightnings  in  the  air. 

[Observes  NUMITOR.] 
This  stranger  urks  me.     I  will  study  him. 

84 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

Why  should  I  dread  to  question  this  recluse 
Who  sits  like  ashes  by  our  homely  blaze? 
Enter  .QuEEN 

[Aside.] 

Terror  in  her  face  too.     My  loving  Queen — 
You've  seen  a  ghost?     'Tis  early  morning  now; 
Let  us  be  calm,  let  us  be  sensible  ; 
Say  what  we  say  without  the  qualms  of  night. 
Daylight  is  daylight.     Come,  my  love,  be  calm. 

QUEEN. 

The  sacred  serpent  doth  refuse  her  food ; 

But  raising  her  green  head  to  hiss  at  me 

Coils  in  a  stupor.     Next,  our  haruspex 

Was  probing  in  the  entrails  of  his  fowls, 

When  three  strong  eagles  steering  from  the  north 

Rose  over  rapid  Tiber  like  a  cloud, — 

Winging  their  way  like  Gorgons — swooped  on  him, 

And  ate  the  birds  of  omen. 

KING. 

Is  this  all? 
QUEEN. 

Alba  is  doomed! 

KING. 

Hush,  the  Ambassador 
Is  on  the  terrace! 

QUEEN. 

[Pointing  to  NUMITOR.] 
What  odd  ghost  is  this 
Who  sits  like  Charon  on  the  dismal  shore? 

KING. 

Some  miscreant  outlaw,  a  hearth  suppliant. 
He  waits  my  leisure.     Peace,  I'll  speak  to  him. 
83 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

QUEEN. 

Husband,  it  is  a  spectre!     Never  let  him 

Turn   his  dead  eyes  on  thee! 

KING. 

My  gentle  wife, 

He  is  a  harmless  beggar.    [Aside.']    Yet  I  tremble — 
So  quick  to  catch  is  fear. 

[The  QUEEN  clings  to  AMULIUS.] 
Stranger,  who  art  thou? 

[NuMlTOR  turns  stiffly,  remaining  at  the 
hearth,  falls  on  his  knees,  holding  his 
face  downwards  and  raises  his  hands. 
QUEEN  screams  and  falls  unconscious. 
Enter  hurriedly  the  AMBASSADOR,  CAP 
TAIN,  PROPRAETOR  and  servants. 

AMBASSADOR. 

What  is  the  matter,  Sirs? 

KING. 

Nothing,  dear  friend, 
The  Queen  is  out  of  sorts:  some  auguries: 
A  flight  of  birds,  and  our  great  serpent's  illness. 
The  trifles  of  a  day.     I  have  your  men 
And  in  the  scales  of  Zeus  shall  weigh  their  crimes 
While  Alba  stands.      [To  servants.]     Attend  her 

Majesty, 
And  bring  me  word  anon.     Men,  to  your  posts! 

[The   KING  assumes  his   mace  as  Justicer. 

servant  hands  mace. 
AMBASSADOR. 
One  million  pardons!     I  must  have  your  ear. 

KING. 
What,  now? 

86 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

AMBASSADOR. 

One   moment,    Sire. 

A  letter  from  my  King,  seven  times  delayed 
And  marked:     "The  haste  that  kills," 
Was  given  me  on  the  terrace.     Here  it  is. 

KING. 

For  me?   What  Kings  have  written  Kings  must  read. 
[Takes   the  paper  and  reads :] 
Brother  in  Bond-of-Love,  Amulius: 
Read   this  alone. — I   have  certain   knowledge   that 
your  brother,  Numitor,  lives,  and  likely  understand 
ing  that  he  seeks  to  regain  his  throne.     My  news, 
which  comes  from  the  south,  is  that  he  marches  with 
Samnite  cohorts  against  your  citadel. 
Protect  thyself. 

GOR   OF    TuSCULUM. 

[To  an  officer.] 
Captain,  send  every  soldier  to  his  post. 

[To  PROPRAETOR.] 

Shut  be  our  gates,  while  on  the  battlements 
The  trumpets  sound  a  siege.    The  water  gates 
Be  duly  guarded.     Man  the  arbalests: 
Pluck  out  the  crouching  augurs  from  their  cells; 
The  riddle's  solved.    Now  let  religion  shake 
Old  women  into  tremors;  we  are  men. 

[To  the  AMBASSADOR.] 

Your  King  has  saved  us.     I  will  judge  these  men 
In  courtesy  towards  his  most  kingly  zeal. 
Then  to  the  war!     Bring  forth  the  prisoners. 
The  King  ascends  his  throne ! 

[KiNG  takes  his  place  on  the  throne.  The 
CAPTAIN  brings  in  ROMULUS  and 
REMUS.  Enter  also  two  peasants  from 
Tusculum,  namely,  AUFIDIUS  and 
FLACCUS,  two  rough-looking  high- 

87 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

Captain,  prefer  your  charge. 

CAPTAIN. 

These  men  are  apprehended  at  the  suit  of  the  King 
of  Tusculum  on  the  charge  of  crossing  his  borders 
and  of  killing  his  peaceful  subjects. 

KING. 

Where  are  the  witnesses? 

[CAPTAIN   pushes  forward  AUFIDIUS  and 
FLACCUS.] 

[Aside  to  AMBASSADOR.] 
My  villains  outrank  yours  in  sheer  good  looks. 

[To  ROMULUS.] 
What  are  your  names?    Whence  come  ye ? 

ROMULUS. 

We  are  named 

I  Romulus,  he  Remus;  we  are  bred 
To  peasant  industry  and  mountain  sport, — 
Woodcraft   of    spear    and    line, — our    flocks    were 

spread 

By  winding  Tiber,  till  your  cattle  thieves 
Drove  them   toward   Tusculum. 

KING 

No  more  of  that! 
Let  the  accusers  speak. 

AUFIDIUS. 

Seven  of  our  men 
Returning  from  a  Fair  at  Ostia, 
Driving  their  cattle  lawfully  along, 
Were  set  upon  by  these  two  miscreants, — 
The  last  of  many  onslaughts  on  our  trade, — 
And   done   to   death. 

[The   QUEEN    has   taken    her  place   by   the 
KING'S  elbow. 
88 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

KING. 

Ye  shall  have  justice,  justice. 

Captain,  immure  these  peasants  in  the  Quarry 

And  have  them  slain  at  sundown. 

QUEEN.     [Aside  to  the  KING.] 

O  my  Lord 

Look  what  you  do.     The  striplings  are  no  carles: 
They  wear  their  rags  with  royal  dignity. 
Mark  them,  my  Lord. 

ROMULUS. 

So  this  is  Alban  justice! 

Rendered   by  whom?     A  robber,  cut-throat  King 
That  cast  his  rightful-titled  brother  out. 
Usurping  King,  thou  dar'st  not  strangle  us ! 
A  god  protects  us,  who  it  is  I  know  not: 
But  some  potential  lightning  from  on  high 
Will  smite  thee  soon.    Thy  brother,  Numitor, 
Knocks   at   the   Sabine   gate. 

[NuMiTOR  rises.] 
KING. 
Remove  them,  guard. 

QUEEN. 

Husband,  reverse  thy  word, 
Dost  thou  remember  Rhea  Sylvia? 
Her  eyes  are  copied  in  that  stripling's  look. 
The  other  is  an  image  of  you  all, — 
A  royal  gallery.    Forbear,  my  lord, 
Lest  through  some  juggling  infamy  of  Fate 
You  kill  your  flesh  and  blood. 
The  serpent's  sickness — the  Tiberian  eagles — 
And  something  more, — See  there! 

[Pointing  to  NUMITOR,  who  is  standing  in 
an  attitude  of  accusing  majesty,  holding 

89 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

his  staff  like  a  sceptre.  His  cape,  as  he 
throws  it  back  from  his  head,  shows  a 
purple  lining. 

KING.     [To  NUMITOR.] 

How  came  you  in?    The  city  gates  are  closed. 

NUMITOR. 

Yet  Jove  walks  through  them. 

KING. 

Can  a  phantom  speak? 
'Tis  terror  plants  this  spectre  in  mine  eye. 
I'll  not  be  scared.    Unreal  and  shallow  ghosts 
Through  whom  the  daylight  passes  haunt  our  minds, 
Rise  in  our  path,  enact  forgotten  scenes, 
And  tinge  some  word  or  trivial  accident 
With  the  unknown. 

QUEEN. 

Why  do  you  mutter  thus 
And  knit  your  brows?     Husband,  it  is  the  beggar. 

KING.    [To  NUMITOR.] 

Beggar  or  King,  who  art  thou? 

NUMITOR. 

Numitor! 

Thy  banished  brother,  Alba's  rightful  Lord. 
'Tis  twenty  years  since  the  December  night 
When  thou  didst  cause  my  palace  to  be  burned, 
Me  banished,  and  my  daughter,  Rhea  Sylvia, 
The  Vestal  Virgin,  to  be  close  immuned 
And  buried  from  the  light.     My  child  was  lost. 
Never  since  then  have  I  had  sight  of  her 
Though  searching  all  the  crannies  of  the  world. 
Speak,  falling  tyrant,  what  befell  the  maid  ? 

[Enter  at  the  back  FAUSTULUS  and  ACCA.] 
90 


ROMULUS  AND;  REMUS 


For  never  shall  this  body  know  repose 
Till  I  have  found  my  Rhea  Sylvia. 

FAUSTULUS  and  ACCA.     [Chanting.'} 
Guardian  of  the  Sacred  Flame, 
Rhea  Sylvia  is  her  name. 
Daughter  of  an  Alban  King 
From  whom  the  Roman  state  shall  spring. 

NUMITOR. 

How  hit  these  chanters  on  my  daughter's  fate? 

Who  art  thou,  little  mother?    Are  ye  priests 

Or  servants  to  some  rustic  deity 

Whose  ditties  hymn  the  name  that  I  have  lost? 

ACCA. 

We  are  two  peasants  visited  of  Mars 
Who  gave  us  noble  boys  for  foster  sons, 
Mooring  his  offspring  by  the  Tiber's  ebb, 
And  nursing  them  with  his  divine  she-wolf 
Till  Faustulus  and  Acca  took  them  in. 
Here  are  their  proofs  of  royal  ancestry 
Which,  like  the  lads  themselves,  are  kingly  gems 
Worn  for  too  long  upon  a  peasant's  breast. 

[She     shows     the     child's     garments     and 

trinkets, 
ROMULUS. 
Mother,  I  need  no  nobler  blood  than  thou. 

REMUS. 
Mother,  nor  I. 

NUMITOR. 

Behold  the  pearls  that  on  my  Rhea's  brow 
Reflected  Vesta's  flame.     The  goddess  now 
Returns  the  scattered  jewels  to  the  crown, 
91 


ROMULUS  AND  REMUS 

Steeping  our  royal  house  in  new  renown. 
Strange  things  are  brought  to  light;  our  darkest 

aim 

Time  hallows  in  its  sacrificial  flame 
And  Jove  subdues  us. 

[To  AMULIUS.] 
Brother,  stretch  thy  hand! 
These  twain, 

[Pointing  to  ROMULUS  and  REMUS.] 
Not  you  nor  I,  shall  rule  the  land. 
KING. 

I  do  submit;  the  plan  that  Jove  contrives 
Glows  visibly  around  our  linked  lives. 
Half  of  great  mysteries  I  darkly  see; 
Time,   thought  and  peace  shall  show  the  rest  to 
me. 

FAUSTULUS. 

I  saw  bright-hammered  Mars 

Bend  o'er  their  cradle:  now  I  hear  his  step, 

As  when  he  breaks  the  ranks  of  serried  war. 

[Enter  MARS.    All  fall  on  their  knees  except 

ACCA  and  FAUSTULUS. 
MARS, 

Parents  of  Rome,  Acca  and  Faustulus, 
Out  of  whose  cabin  flows  the  Latin  stream 
That  laves  the  later  nations  of  the  world, — 
Mars  with  the  stubborn  hand  of  war  doth  write 
Your  lowly  names  on  Rome's  great  title-page. 
Live  with  his  sons  in  memory!     Martial  Rome, 
The  hope,  the  fate,  the  splendor  of  the  world 
Begins  to-morrow,  when  my  Romulus 
Choosing  a  spot  beside  the  Tiber's  reeds, 
Shall  turn  the  furrow  with  his  shining  plow. 

CURTAIN 

THE   END 
92 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

RENEWALS  ONLY— TEL.  NO.  642-3405 
This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


TO 


MAYfi    197Q 


RETD     APR  1  5 

OCT  1  4 1983     6 


LD21A-60m-6,'69 
(J9096slO)476-A-32 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


381475 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


